


Here We Go Again

by Maggie N (freecas)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Artist!Dean, Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1296808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freecas/pseuds/Maggie%20N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A successful artist and a never-will-be economist walk into a bar, have sex and end up falling in love. But that’s not how the joke ends, because you see, something goes wrong along the way.</p><p>So do they live happily ever after, you ask.</p><p>Well, that depends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in English. To be honest, I'm very nervous and happy to post the first part of it. I don't know if you guys will enjoy it as much as I have writing it.
> 
> Also huge thanks to my beta, for doing wonderful job. And I wanted as well to say thanks to my best friend, Dasha, who kept me writing the fic, I don't think I'd finish it if it wasn't for her.
> 
> So, yeah, I hope you enjoy this, guys, and, of course, tell me if you liked it.
> 
> Also I recommend listening to this [mix](http://8tracks.com/be_like_audrey/here-we-go-again-dean-cas) while reading.

Cas glances over his laptop screen at Dean, who’s sitting on the opposite side of the booth, his attention drawn to the sketch book on the table, where Cas can see dark and fuzzy lines all over the page. It’s a demon, Castiel guesses, or at least it’s something that makes him shiver. After all these years he’s still not used to the original themes of Dean’s art.

It suddenly hits Castiel that it’s been 10 years since they’ve first met. Today is _the day_ they met, Cas realizes looking at the corner of the laptop screen. The day they met, kissed and had sex for the first time (they didn’t really waste any time). But the thought does nothing to make Cas happy. In fact, it only reminds him of their long and, frankly, not very pleasant story, of how they became completely indifferent to the world and to each other’s lives.

They were nothing like this in the beginning, though. In fact, they were a couple that was often referred as “disgustingly adorable”. When they first started dating they couldn’t stop touching each other, kissing each other, calling each other on the rare occasions when they were apart, and, of course, having a lot of sex whenever they could. Their friends were fed up with their unlimited make out sessions to the point that more often than not they would sit between them just to stop them for a couple of hours.

Before Dean, he would have never thought that he would fall for somebody so fast and so hard. And thinking about it now, he isn’t sure if that was a good thing, after all.

Cas catches himself smiling though. The last time he smiled was so long ago that he has a hard time remembering it. But he knows for sure it had to be before the accident.

He watches as Dean moves his free hand towards his third empty glass and brings it to his lips, not looking at it. Normally Cas wouldn’t pay any attention to him, he wouldn’t mind Dean calling the waitress and shamelessly flirting with her while asking for one more glass of whiskey in front of his – no, Cas, don’t even go there – in front of Cas.

But today Cas surprises himself by feeling a punch in his gut watching the waitress smile at Dean and lean forward a little bit too much as she brings him his order. Dean grins at her and thanks her and it could have hurt Cas because this is the exact same smile Dean used ten years ago to get into Castiel’s pants. But there’s more to it now. Cas doubts that the waitress can see it, or that anyone can, but after living together for so long, they know each other better then themselves. Cas sees everything in Dean’s eyes, behind the cockiness and confidence and all the flirting; there are dead parts of him that never faded from his eyes and Cas doubts they ever will.

He makes himself look at the screen and continue doing whatever it was he was doing, but it doesn’t work, he can’t stop thinking about that night ten years ago when his life changed so radically he never could have known was possible in real life.

Dean brought so much light in his life and then took it all away.

If Cas could travel back in time, he would tell the past version of himself not to talk to that ridiculously attractive man sitting right beside him, not drink four extra bottles of beer with him, not kiss him passionately in the alley, not let him drive them to his place. To not let himself be pushed into the nearest wall once they were inside. Not ask the guy’s name between hot and lasting kisses. Not stay at his place next day and watch him make them breakfast wearing nothing but an apron, and certainly not be turned on by it (well, that would be the hardest part).

Not fall in love as uncontrollably and desperately as they did.

Dean suddenly jerks and Cas’ attention is back on him. One of the papers is ripped out of the sketchbook and thrown on the table between them. There are a lot of crumpled papers between them now, Cas notices. Dean’s not having a very good day then.

Cas wonders for a brief moment if Dean still considers him to be his “muse” but then chuckles to himself knowing the answer. The last time Dean called him that was four years ago.

It was a hot summer day and they didn’t have money to buy an air conditioner so they ate mostly ice-cream and didn’t bother to wear any clothes. Cas’ remembers Dean had a really huge project coming, but it was one of those rare occasions when he hadn’t had any thoughts or inspiration of any kind. And usually Cas would just sit beside him, massage his shoulders and tell Dean that he would think something out eventually (and he always did). But it was so hot that summer day that neither of them wanted to be near each other.

Cas was standing by the window, looking outside, because he liked the view out of their old apartment, when Dean asked him not to move. Cas knew what that meant. Wherever they were, whatever they did, when Dean asked him not to move, Cas turned into a marble statue, not blinking and almost not breathing, completely empty of any thoughts or worries of any kind.

Dean started making notes in his sketch book, and although Cas couldn’t see him then, he could swear on anything holy that that was the moment Dean was more alive than he had ever been.

“ _My muse_ ,” Dean whispered in his ear, coming too close to Cas in the heat of the flat after the sketch was ready, “ _You’re so beautiful._ ”

Wasn’t that the day Cas smiled for the last time?

Cas breathes out, looking around the bar, scanning not people but objects. It hasn’t changed a lot, but without the Harvelle’s, the place feels less like home. It has been long since the mother and daughter were in charge of this place, but still it feels strange to be nothing more than guests here.

Come to think of it, Cas is still not used to the idea of losing all their friends in less than two months, though it was almost four years ago. Everything feels so strange tonight, like Castiel accidentally woke up from a dream, and he becomes aware of the fact that he and Dean are totally alone.

Everybody left them.

Dean finishes his fourth glass and asks for the next one too fast for Castiel’s liking. There are more papers on the table now, and Cas frowns knowing that today he will be driving and dragging drunk Dean back home. He’s not pleased by that, but he also knows it’s not his place to say anything. He knows better than anyone that Dean hasn’t stopped drinking since the day Sam died.

Cas sighs, trying and failing to not remember that day. He looks at Dean, who’s talking to the waitress again, and doesn’t know if he should pity him or be angry with him.

“Thank you, darling,” Dean smiles sweetly at the waitress, when she puts a glass of whiskey in front of him, “Somebody’s going to have a huge tip tonight.”

“Well,” says the girl, leaning forward so much that she obstructs Dean from Castiel’s view, “I was thinking about something bigger than that.”

Castiel fists his hand. He tries to stay calm, as he always does. He can’t really blame this girl, Dean’s irresistible when he wants to be. And even with five-day stubble on his face, tired eyes and crumpled clothes, Dean Winchester looks better than anyone you’ll ever meet.

Cas waits for his answer, feeling his heart beat a little bit faster, anger in his chest becoming less controlled. But still he waits.

Before he can hear Dean’s answer, he hears his phone ring. He excuses himself and walks out of the bar. He isn’t sure if he should be glad for this or ignore the call and go back and break something (preferably Dean’s jaw).

“Castiel, honey, how are you?”

Once he hears affectionate tone of Mrs. Winchester’s voice, he’s calm again, breathing in the night’s air. He feels his heart slow down, but his hands start trembling when he holds his phone a bit tighter.

“Never better, Mary.”

His voice is shaking, he realizes, and suddenly he’s afraid she will hear that.

“Are you okay?”

Of course she does.

Castiel hates lying to her even more than he hates whining. He never understood how she could be so strong after everything that happened to her. She lost so many people in her life, and now she had to live knowing that somewhere on the other end of the country her only left family, her only left child, is slowly dying from the inside. And she could do nothing to save him just because he didn’t want to be saved.

Cas feels something in his throat.

“Darling, what’s up?”

“It’s okay. Everything is fine,” he tries to control his voice, “Just tired, I guess,” he lies. He is used to talking to Mary after all these years. She doesn’t call Dean anymore, because he made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk to anyone, even his mother, the person he was the closest to. It hurt to look at Mary so much at that moment that Cas didn’t even try to do anything about that. He was just standing in the middle of the room, watching his life fall apart.

But Mary was wiser than that, she kept calling, never forgetting and always forgiving these two idiots. And her attempts to pull their lives back to normal makes it even harder for Cas to remain calm.

“How are you?”

Mary leads a quiet life in her small house in California, and she doesn’t have a lot of exciting news to tell, but Cas listens anyway. He likes listening to her stories. They’re like fairy tales that help him forget about his pathetic little life for some time.

When he’s back in the bar, Dean’s sitting alone in the booth. Cas notices two more glasses of whiskey and the emotions that disappeared for several minutes are back. He doesn’t say anything though, just sits back in front of his laptop. He glances at the table, noticing one small paper that is different from the others. It’s not rumpled and there’s a number on it written in ink. Dean never uses pens. Cas frowns, remembering the waitress from earlier that night.

“You know, she’s worried about you,” words are out of his mouth before he can think better of it, “It would be nice if you called her once.”

Dean stops drawing and doesn’t move for several moments. Cas knows all at once that he shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s late. Dean’s packing his sketchbook and the paper with phone number, empties the last glass and stands up from the booth.

“Tip her well,” he says casually, walking out of the bar.

Cas hurries to pack his laptop into the bag and throw enough money to cover the bill and walks fast to the parking lot.

Dean is in the car already, and Cas breathes out. He doesn’t know why he’s been holding his breath, but seeing Dean wait for him is the only nice thing left for him.

He throws his bag in the car before getting in it himself. He truly and passionately hates the thing. It’s nothing like their Impala. It’s bright blue, it’s almost as quiet as a car can get and worst of all it’s a two-seat _sportscar_. He knows that old Dean would make fun of anyone who would buy such garbage, but Dean that’s sitting beside him doesn’t mind at all. He’s smoking while driving them home.

“Maybe it would be better if I was driving,” Cas suggest, remembering about seven glasses of whiskey Dean drank earlier. Cas isn’t scared of getting into an accident, he knows that there’s nobody who can be nearly as good as Dean is behind the wheel.

It doesn’t really surprise Cas when Dean ignores him. Ignoring each other is part of their silent and unimportant lives now, and usually Cas would be okay with that, but today he's a little bit too emotional, a little bit too angry and upset. And that bit is enough.

“I hate this car,” he grumbles loud enough for Dean to hear.

Dean just chuckles – one of those hollow laughs of his that Cas hates – and says, “Weren’t you the one who bought it?”

“Well, I needed to get to work somehow.”

He expects Dean to ignore him again.

“That’s why you bought the most expensive and stupid car ever,” Dean says shifting in his seat as if to make a point of how uncomfortable the car is.

Cas actually agrees with Dean, and he wishes he could say something to make Dean smile for real, not chuckle hollowly or not grin idiotically but smile that honest and kind smiles of his that Cas fell in love with in the first place.

But there isn’t anything he can say or do.

“Well, it runs on electricity so it’s safe for the environment.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean says, inhaling the smoke before throwing the cigarette away, “I thought you said you hated this car?”

Cas doesn’t even know why he was defending it in the first place, but now he feels really tired and the only thing he wants to do right now is go back home and fall asleep.

He can feel Dean’s gaze on him, but he won’t look back. This is the other thing that they do – avoid eye contact. Not in a blushy-teenage-girl way. They know they’re looking at each other, but they won’t ever look straightly in the eyes. And Cas hates that too. Maybe even more than the car.

“Well, you can always go and buy the new one. I thought that was the whole meaning of your job? A lot of meaningless money.”

Cas feels anger slowly rise from the inside. Every word Dean said was like a slap in the face. From the moment they decided they were dating Dean knew who Cas was and what he liked to do for money – sit in the office, count figures, write reports. Dean told him straight away that he could never understand that. The wild and seeking for freedom nature of him could never work for money, day after day, the same place, the same faces.

Of course it was not true. Dean worked for money pretty great, people paid for Dean’s artwork as if Dean was Michelangelo’s son. They sought for his advice and paid a great deal for it. But the difference between them was that Dean was paid for the job he liked doing, and Cas was doing a job he liked being paid for.

“There isn’t any car left in this world that could satisfy my tastes.”

Cas wasn’t lying. After the Impala was “dead,” Cas started looking for another ’67 Chevrolet Impala, and he found plenty. But none of them were actually _the_ Impala. After realizing it, Cas tried to hire somebody to fix Dean’s baby, but she was so badly damaged that every mechanic who saw her said it wasn’t worth trying. _“Let her rest in peace.”_

“You can always use the subway.” Now Dean’s mocking him, smiling to himself like a Cheshire cat, maybe imagining Cas trying to use the underground. Cas doesn’t know why they’re talking now, after all these months of silently ignoring each other, like neither of them existed in each other lives. But today he wants to scream at Dean’s face for everything that Dean has done to him.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he shouts, turning to face Dean, trembling with anger.

Dean keeps his eyes on the road, but shouts back, and Castiel’s heart skips a bit hearing him raise his voice for the first time in a long, long time.

“What is wrong with _me_?! Really, Cas? Maybe there’s nothing wrong with me and there’s something really wrong with my life. Because it sucks. And yours sucks too, you know it,” he looks at Castiel, and for several seconds there’s complete silence in the car.

They hold their gazes and Cas is amazed by the green in Dean’s eyes. It’s just like when they first met, those ten bloody years ago. It almost feels like the old days, when they could look in each other eyes for so long that people would start to question their sanity.

Dean then looks on the road, and Cas is left sitting there, wondering, what’s happened to them.

“If our lives are so bad,” he starts bitterly, “why don’t we just kill ourselves? _That_ definitely wouldn’t suck.”

What the fuck had happened to them?

“See, even you have nice ideas from time to time.”

Cas can’t believe what Dean says, he can’t believe anything that’s happening today, he can’t believe the words that have just spilled out of that goddamn mouth. Everything feels surreal.

“Are you even listening to yourself?!” he shouts, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest, “We die and what? Leave everybody behind? That’s what you want?!”

“Everybody? Who the fuck is everybody? There’s no one left, genius! I’m not even slightly surprised that you were so ignorant not to realize that until now.”

Cas feels something come up his throat. He wants to throw up right now.

“What about your mother?” he sees hurt in Dean’s eyes, “Jessica?” he tries.

“Jessica,” Dean chuckles, “Right. How could I forget about her? Barely-alive-mostly-dead-not-functioning-corpse-of-a-girl, Jessica.”

Cas can’t see clearly now. Everything is a mess in his head.

“Don’t you dare call her that,” he says weakly, trying to keep his hands from shaking, he wants to beat the shit out Dean so much, it hurts him to look at him, “Don’t you dare.”

“Or what?” Dean asks casually, “You’ll throw your laptop at me?” he openly laughs at Castiel now.

“Stop the car.”

Dean slams on the brakes and Cas flies forward, almost hitting the windshield. He hadn’t even been aware of how fast Dean was driving until now, but he doesn’t wait for the car to fully stop to get out of it. His legs shake and he has to lean on the open door to keep himself from falling on the ground.

“Are you done?” he hears Dean shout from the inside. “Can we go now?”

Cas slams the door so he can’t hear Dean’s voice. He won’t sit in the car anymore. He just can’t, and it doesn’t matter that he’ll have to walk a really long road to get back home, he just wants to get away from Dean and his life for some time, because he can’t take it anymore.

Castiel hears the car start behind him. When he turns to see if Dean is driving back to the bar, the car is gone. Cas stands there without any intention to. There’s a twitchy feeling in his chest, when it becomes quiet around him, and he can’t hear the car’s engine anymore.

The walk home lasts about an hour. It’s two o’clock in the morning when Castiel’s head hits the pillow. He’s tired and angry and wants to forget about everything. He doesn’t even change his clothes. Cas breathes out and the bed suddenly feels too big for him. He swallows, trying and failing not to think about Dean and the waitress and wishes morning would come faster.

It doesn’t though, and Castiel is left thinking and rethinking everything that has happened to him.

Dean is gone for two weeks.

At first Castiel doesn’t even notice that he’s back, he’s too tired after work. He had several meetings today and had to talk to cops, because some dumb asshole stole money from his company and ran off. But money doesn’t bother Cas as much as the fact that said asshole stole his _ideas too._ And if he doesn’t think of something new within a week, he might as well pack his stuff and start looking for a new job, which isn’t a very pleasant thought.

He pays the taxi driver and walks to the house, hating how fancy it seems now. Cas doesn’t remember it being this way when he was buying it. What did they even need three floors for? Isn’t that a bit too much for two people, one of whom is gone anyway?

Cas turns the lights on and throws the bag with his new laptop on the coffee table. He starts undoing knot on his tie when something on the couch moves attracting his attention. It takes a moment to recognize a smelly and dirty pile of clothes as the person Castiel dedicated his life to. He’s sleeping calmly as though he wasn’t absent long and Cas doesn’t deserve any kind of explanation.

Cas sighs and walks past him to his bedroom. He makes a mental note to call their housemaid. Now that Dean is back he’s pretty sure they’ll need her help again.

Before falling on the bed he dials Mary’s number.

“It’s okay. He’s back.”

He hears her sigh with relief. Though it’s late, he’s pretty sure it was difficult for her to these past two weeks. At first Cas didn’t want to bother her with it, but when Dean was gone for almost a week and didn’t even care to answer his phone, Cas figured it was time for him to do something about it, because Dean was never gone for more than five days.

“Thank you, darling. I’m sorry he’s so troublesome sometimes,” she says, voice shaking.

She’s tired of Dean’s tricks, Cas can tell, but that’s the thing about the people you care about too much. Eventually they will turn their back on you or stab you in the heart while you’re standing there, wondering if it could have turned out worse, and trying to find excuses for their mistakes.

“You know that it was my choice. And after all this time…” he feels his heart quicken, and swallows, “I’d still choose this life over any other.”

“I just hope that one day you both realize that you deserve so much more than this.”

Cas sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his forehead. He would do anything to get Mary out of this mess that they’d made their life into.

He wakes up several hours later from the noise coming from down the hallway. He can hear heavy steps and sits up in the bed startled. Cas blindly reaches for the phone on the nightstand, but then he hears Dean’s voice and relaxes, lying down. He’s forgotten that Dean is back.

Cas closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep again, but he can’t. Flashbacks keep interrupting his dreams. It’s hard to forget the memories from a happy past, even though they’re so difficult to bear. He just can’t let them go.

“Honey, I’m ho-ome,” Dean sing-songs from somewhere near the doorway as if he’s thinking of the same night. The night when he was back after being away for two and a half months. It was the longest they had to be apart since they’d started dating. Dean had one of his most important projects awaiting him on the other side of the world. And as much as he wanted to stay with Cas, he had to leave for Italy. But it was worth it in the end. Not because he then was known as the most talented artist in the better part of Europe, but when he finally was back after those goddamn months, Cas made sure that it would be the night Dean wouldn’t be able to forget for a long time.

And it looks like he didn’t.

“Ya know, I couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you,” Cas hears as the bed shifts behind him, “Were you thinking ‘bout me, too?” Dean asks smugly, getting closer to Cas.

_“No need to ask unnecessary questio- ah!”_

Cas swallows, closing his eyes, forcing the memories away. “Stop it, Dean. That’s not funny at all.”

Cas doesn’t want to turn and face Dean. He feels something come up in his throat again, and the sickening feeling is back once Dean’s hot and wet chest is pressed to his back. Cas knows that even after the shower he’s still not quite sober so he tries to keep himself as calm as possible, feeling Dean’s hot breath behind his ear.

“’T’s bad, ‘cause, ya know, baby, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you, ‘lot,” Cas can feel Dean’s hand on his hips rubbing almost gentle circles, and tries to keep himself still, “Like it, when you’re like this,” Dean’s fingertips brush lightly over his belly before going up, “So soft,” he whispers, and Cas almost believes him.

It’s too easy to believe any nonsense that comes out of Dean’s mouth. He sounds so confident and serious when he wants to. And even now Castiel doesn’t have to see his face to know that he means it. At least he wants it to look like that.

“That’s nice to know that you were thinking about me when you were fucking that whore from the bar. Not disgusting at all,” Cas grabs Dean’s wrist and pulls his hand from beneath his t-shirt. He wants to pull it further away, but Dean doesn’t let him, keeping his hand on Cas hips.

“Someone’s jealous,” he sing-songs again with some king of amusement in his voice, “And ‘ere I thought you lost the ability to feel,” Cas is startled, not quite knowing what that’s supposed to mean, “Let’s check what else you’re still able to feel, shall we, hm?” Dean says, moving their hands south.

And Castiel doesn’t know what to do with that. It’s been so long since Dean touched him like this that he’s almost forgotten the way his hands feel on his body. And he wants to be reminded of that so badly, that he weakens the hold on Dean’s wrist and lets him slip his hand into his briefs. The touch is both expected and sudden. Cas shudders, moaning quietly. It’s been too long.

Dean licks his earlobe and moves his hand over the shaft of Cas’ already half-hard cock. “’Like it when you swear,” he whispers, “But I like it s’ much more when you moan, baby,” and Cas is trying not to make a sound, he really does. But it’s hard to lie still, when Dean’s hand feels so familiar and _oh so good_. “Yeah, just like that.”

Cas knows that he will hate himself later for letting this happen. He knows that this means nothing to Dean, who will probably forget that this happened in the morning. But there’s an aching feeling in his chest that can only be eased by Dean’s touch, he just can’t make it stop. He wants so much more. To make up for all these years, for all the lost time.

“You want more, don’t you, baby?” and Cas actually mewls at that, but he has no time to be embarrassed. This feels so good, that he would give up everything for this to last a little bit longer. He craved for Dean’s touch so much that he feels like he’s drowning now. It seems unreal. “Then you’ll have to ask for it.” Castiel freezes, breathing heavily, as if waking up.

“What?” he snaps, trying to turn, but Dean doesn’t let him, squeezing his cock painfully in his hand.

Cas cries out, grabbing Dean’s hand again, trying to pull it away. “Stop that! Dean!” He tries to move, break free of that hold, but Dean presses him face-down on the bed, grabbing his hair with his free hand, pulling his head the way he wants to and whispers, “I want to hear you beg, Cas.” What? “Use that sweet voice of yours.”

No, no, no. This isn’t right. This can’t be right. Cas feels sick. He tries to move, but he can’t: his left hand is squeezed between his chest and the bed, and his right hand is of no use, really. Dean is pressing him down with his body, his free hand moving to remove Castiel’s briefs.

“Dean, stop this, now!” He tries to move again, but Dean stops him, pressing too hard against Cas’ thighs. He moves down, sucking his neck and leaving a hickey there. His hand, now free, grabs Cas’s right one and pulls it above his head, keeping it there. Cas tries to pull it out but the more he does that, the stronger Dean holds him down. He feels the fabric of Dean’s jeans thrust against his ass.

“Dean! Get off me!” he’s breathing faster now. “I can’t move,” he breathes out quietly, as if he’s just realized. He can’t move.

“That was the plan.”

Cas can feel Dean smiling against his neck, licking and pulling at the sensitive skin there. He feels dumb and exposed, even though he’s still wearing his t-shirt and (technically) his briefs. He can’t think straight, but he manages to ask one more thing, before his body gives in completely.

“The plan was to rape me?”

Dean shifts behind him and Cas tries to use that time to pull his left hand from beneath him, but the pressure is back too fast and the position of his hand now is even worse, hurting his chest. Castiel tries to calm himself down but every time he feels Dean’s hot breath on his skin, his head starts spinning and all he can think about is the way Dean’s hand holds his.

“S’ what?” Cas feels Dean’s skin rub against the small of his back and swallows; he knows how this night is going to end, and he feels something inside of him crack in– in fear, “Now you don’t want it?” The voice sounds so quiet and soft to his ears, that he even stops shaking, but the hand in his hair turns his head into the pillow cutting off the air, “Weren’t you the one to want this?”

Castiel closes his eyes trying not to hear a word, but hearing is not what bothers him the most now. He can feel every part of Dean, covering him from chest to toes. The heat of the body, every breath, every beat of Dean’s heart – a reminder that they’re alive. They’re the closest they’ve been in so, so long and Cas isn’t ready to let that go.

“Don’t you remember?” Dean rubs his hips against him and Castiel can feel his cock already hard, thrusting between his buttocks, “Don’t worry, baby,” Dean whispers, biting Castiel’s earlobe almost painfully, “I can remind you.”

Cas feels his body go pliant, tired of the struggling, and he tries to catch some air with his nose but Dean pushes his head into the pillows even further than before. “Don’t move.” And Cas wants to get away, wants to push the body that feels so good off of him, but he can’t move anymore.

Dean’s hold loosens on his hand but he doesn’t try to do anything, just grasping the sheets and barely able to breathe, almost to the point of unconsciousness.

Wet fingers rub over his hole and Cas automatically clenches, gasping.

“Dean…” he breathes out quietly and his voice sounds so gentle that his heart starts beating faster just from the sound of the name alone.

Dean freezes for a moment before shoving the first finger in, too rough and too sudden. “Such a slut for me,” the words are sharp and painful, and Cas regrets every syllable that escapes his mouth in desire for more. “You always were.”

Cas isn’t ready for the second finger. He tightens his grip and bites his lips, trying not to let out a single whimper that’s burning his chest from the inside. Dean pulls on his hair, lifting Castiel’s head up, and this time it’s hard to be silent. He starts breathing in and out so fast that everything starts spinning around.

“Why are you here, Cas?” Dean moves his hand to his neck, keeping slight pressure on it, while shoving his fingers in almost painfully, “Why didn’t you leave me, like everyone else did, huh?”

Cas has asked himself this question for years now, but frankly, he’d rather lie to himself and to anyone else; he’d rather lie about his feelings, and he won’t let the truth leave his mouth. Because he knows once it’s out, it won’t feel like truth anymore.

“What is it that’s here for you?” Dean growls pulling his fingers out, “What do you want?”

Nothing. There isn’t anything left in this world that could satisfy his needs.

“Dean,” he whispers, “please…” and it’s so quiet that he thinks for a moment he didn’t say it at all. He doesn’t know what he begs for, and he has no time to think, because Dean enters him bottoming out in one swift motion, leaving Castiel gasping and squeezing the sheets.

“So tight,” Dean hisses breathing in and out for some time, “Such a waste,” he adds like an afterthought pulling out slightly and then slamming back in. Dean throws Cas’s head back on the bed, lying on top of him and gripping his free hand again. And, _oh god_ , how good it feels to be filled again. And a thin border between pleasure and pain leaves Cas shaking in the need for something more.

“You remember it, don’t you? Our first time,” Dean says, breathing into the back of his neck. His voice sounds so distant that Cas thinks it’s his own imagination playing tricks with him, trying to make this easier to bear.

“’Cause I do,” Dean breathes out, and Cas actually moans at that. “I want you to remember this night, Cas,” and now the voice is so sharp that Castiel can’t breathe for a while, “Because this is all you’re good for.” Dean slams into him again and again, harder and faster with every thrust, “Nothing more, _baby_.”

Dean’s movements become more erratic, the grip on Cas’ hands tightens, and Castiel knows it’s going to end soon. But no matter how hard it hurts now, he wants this to be the beginning. The wrong and violent beginning of the new chapter in their story, because Dean is touching him, Dean is talking to him, Dean is here with him today, and that is good enough for Castiel.

Dean shoves in with a growl, and Cas can feel something warm inside of him, his cheeks feel as hot as his body now. Dean pulls in and out several times slowly before collapsing on him, their hands still conjoined together.

Cas feels hot and wet all over, his body unable to move, his eyes closed and breathing still uneven. It feels too quiet and cold in the room suddenly. He thinks that Dean fell asleep and moves his hand from under his, but Dean jerks and pulls his cock out of him, collapsing on his back next to him. Cas is sore and dirty and empty and everything feels wrong. He wants to get out and clean himself from this filth but he doesn’t. Instead he moves his left hand on the bed, so that breathing does not feel as painful now.

“You don’t mean that,” he says finally, his voice more hoarse than usual, “Everything you said… I know you, Dean. You didn’t mean that.” He swallows, but doesn’t hesitate, words spilling out of him, and if Dean gets to tell him everything he thinks about him, then so does he, “We’ve been through so much together. I know when you’re lying.”

Cas tries to get up, but his body doesn’t listen to him. His muscles hurt as if he’s been running a marathon. His legs give in before his arms do and he collapses on the bed, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

“I just,” it’s so stupid to talk now, after everything is set and done; they can’t return the past, he can’t return Sam, he can’t bring Dean’s life back again, “I just don’t understand, Dean,” he breathes out, and he can barely see Dean moving, “I don’t understand what you want me to do. Tell me what to do.”

Cas knows he sounds pathetic even to his own ears. And Dean must think so too, because he opens he eyes and looks at the ceiling, not daring to look at the result of his own work. Instead, he gets up, adjusts his jeans and walks out of the room.


	2. Part II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hopes Castiel had slowly shatter, falling to pieces as he wakes up from the dull ache inside his chest every night. He doesn’t know why and he certainly doesn’t want to think about it, because every time he does, the ache gets so much worse.
> 
> So he concentrates on his work instead, on the problems that can actually leave him and forty to fifty people who work under him unemployed. And that is so much worse than the hollowness in his chest.

The hopes Castiel had slowly shatter, falling to pieces as he wakes up from the dull ache inside his chest every night. He doesn’t know why and he certainly doesn’t want to think about it, because every time he does, the ache gets so much worse. So he concentrates on his work instead, on the problems that can actually leave him and forty to fifty people who work under him unemployed. And that is so much worse than the hollowness in his chest.

He’s the last one to leave work and the first one to get there in the morning. He sleeps for about 5 hours every night and drinks more coffee than he probably should. He almost doesn’t eat, and he doesn’t even want to think about it. Because if he does, he’ll start imagining Dean in the kitchen wearing that stupid apron of his and cooking the most delicious dinner in the world. He’ll remember all the times they did it together and all the nights that followed.

No, he has to work, work, _work_.

Weekends are the worst. If he has no meetings he doesn’t know what to do with his free time. So he just spends all of his time in his room or in the kitchen, reading and drinking coffee, hoping that Dean won’t come out of his studio, which Dean, thankfully, never does. Sometimes Cas can hear him working, sometimes it gets so quiet in the house that the only thing he can hear is his own breathing.

Maybe they should talk, maybe it would be better if he could just open up a little bit, if he could get Dean open up for him. Maybe they could fix this; they could fix everything if they tried. Maybe it’s time they tried, because this? This is not what he wanted his life to be. This is not what he signed up for.

Castiel starts when he hears the doorbell ring. He gets up and walks to the door. He didn’t expect anyone. The only person that could possibly be behind the door is Dean’s agent, and she’s already here, so Cas turns on the defense system and waits for screen to show him the picture.

On the black-and-white screen he sees a head of a guy in a cap and at first he thinks he’s imagining it, but then the guy knocks the door again and Cas hears the sound well and clear. He opens the door more warily than he intends to.

“What are you doing here?” he snaps.

Benny is taken aback with this question it is obvious, but he quickly recovers and smiles.

“Guess, some people never change, after all,” the man says smiling. “’T’s nice to see ya too, b-guy.”

Cas feels something crack inside of him letting the corners of his mouth pull up a little bit, when he hears long forgotten nickname. He can see it makes Benny happy, and in the light of the day he looks so much younger than Cas remembers.

Benny laughs then steps forward and pulls Cas into a hug and Castiel freezes, startled, not knowing what to do with his hands and letting them stay on his sides. But Benny doesn’t mind, being aware of his awkwardness when it comes to showing affections.

It’s been so long since Benny abandoned them and moved on with his life, along with all their friends. Cas knows he should be angry with him, should feel betrayed. But for some reason he doesn’t.

He lets Benny in without a second thought. He hasn’t had guests for quite a long time and he doesn’t know what to do, standing in the hall and looking at Benny who’s looking around like he’s never seen a house like that before. Maybe he hasn’t.

“It looks even bigger from in ‘ere,” he laughs almost nervously, “How d’ya not get lost in it?”

“We use a map,” Cas says seriously.

Benny laughs, and Cas smiles in return. He knows, Benny must feel a bit out of place in the house like this. He just isn’t used to the fancy stuff. To think about it now, it was a lot easier for Cas to become accustomed to this kind of life, than for the life he and Dean were leading before.

“And I also noticed the car…” Benny stops mid-sentence pointing his thumb to the front door.

It’s quiet for some time before Cas manages to say anything.

“Well, the deal between our company and _Detroit Electric_ made it so I was sort of obliged to buy the car _._ It wasn’t my choice.”

Cas doesn’t know why he tells this Benny, but the moment the words are out he feels so much better, like some weight he never knew existed has disappeared from his shoulders. And Benny smiles again, as if he knows it.

Benny doesn’t ask about the house or the car, and Cas is thankful to him. He invites his friend to the kitchen, makes Benny a cup of tea and apologizes for having nothing to eat.

“You’re kinda a big deal in the press now, ya know,” Benny says, putting his cup on the table. “Well, you _and_ Dean.”

Of course Cas knows that, but somehow it doesn’t bother him. His routine doesn’t give him a chance to feel the pressure of being famous, so what kind of popularity is there to talk about?

“I’m just an ordinary working person, not so different from anyone,” he lies.

Benny nods, “With a billion-dollar house and a hundred-million-dollar car.”

Cas sighs but says nothing. Benny has always been observant and interested in people, that’s why he was the best agent Dean ever had. They were perfect for each other: the talented, preconceived in his orders Dean and charming, quick-witted Benny. The press calls Benny Dean’s “ _Golden Age_ ” because that was the glory time for Dean and his artworks.

But when everything started falling apart, Benny left. He was not the first one to leave, but he was not the last one either. And that left Cas thinking if it was time he too should leave, and if sticking around was really the better choice.

“The question is still relevant,” Cas says, leaning on the counter with a cup of tea in his hands.

Benny sips from his cup, but doesn’t break eye contact, his eyes shining the way Dean’s used to shine too.

He and Dean are too much alike, well… _were_ too much alike. They were friends for a decade, no less, when Dean and Cas started dating. It wasn’t hard to guess why they were friends in the first place. Cas often thought that sometimes they had the same thoughts and could actually talk without having to say anything out loud. Cas sometimes found himself wondering if he and Dean had the same connection that Benny and Dean had.

Right now Benny is looking at him the way Dean would look at him when he had a surprise waiting for him. And it does nothing but darken Cas’ mood, making him clench his fist and breathe harder.

“Don’t act like ya don’t know, b-guy,” Benny says, his voice light with hidden laughter.

Cas frowns.

“I don’t think I follow you,” he says, putting down the cup and straightening up.

“Come on, it’s not a secret, everyone knows.”

Everyone knows about what? About his unimportant boring life that’s slowly falling apart; about his delusions for the better future that will never come true; about the miserable hopes he still carries in his heart?

“Benny, I–” he starts.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Cas. I’m not Dean.”

Benny means it as a joke, Cas knows that, but somehow it doesn’t feel like one. Not to Castiel, anyway.

That always has been the biggest problem between them. They never were friends, never called each other that. They were so different, so unadjusted to each other, even after being around each other for so long. Every conversation they had ended up almost as a fight, so Dean and the others had to stop them before it had gotten ugly.

And even after all these years, nothing has changed. Only now Cas doesn’t feel like letting this drop, he’s had enough.

He steps toward and grips the collar of Benny’s shirt, looking him in the eyes. Benny tenses the moment he’s too far into his personal space, because he knows how strong Castiel can be, when he wants to. He himself has seen him beat four guys up, when they tried to mess with him and Dean in the alley once.

“Benjamin Lafitte,” Cas growls, “I have no idea what you are talking about. So either you explain or get out.”

Benny’s eyes widen in surprise, “Whoa, chill out, brother.” He lifts his hands up slowly, as if he trying to soothe a wild animal. “No reason to get so defensive.”

Cas sighs and lets go of him, stepping back and closing his eyes, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what…” he sighs again, rubbing his eyes, “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

He hears Benny chuckle, “I bet. After all the preparations, huh?” He adds, smiling again. His moods were always hard to spoil.

Cas shakes his head again and looks at Benny, scanning him up and down. “I said that I don’t know what you are implying, and I meant it,” he says firmly.

Benny looks lost for a second. He glances at Cas and then starts scanning the room as if answers are hidden somewhere here, but when his eyes finally settle back on Cas, he looks certain. Castiel expects him to explain everything now, but he doesn’t.

“What’s goin’ on between you and Dean, Cas?” Benny asks, and his voice sounds much more serious than seconds before.

The question is so sudden, that Castiel doesn’t know what to say. The most simple answer would be _nothing_. Nothing is going on between them and nothing ever will, not again.

“He lives ‘ere, right?” Benny tries again, but Cas doesn’t answer.

Benny looks concerned. He still considers himself to be their friend, he cares about them after everything that has happened.

Cas looks away, averting his eyes from Benny’s. He can’t tell the truth. He was the one to stay here with Dean, he was the one to try and make everything all right again, but he could not. Cas knows he has to lie. That’s the only way he can pretend that everything is okay. But before he has a chance to open his mouth, he hears the door to Dean’s studio open and someone walk out. He looks at Benny, and sees him go still and that is not right. Something is happening right before him but he’s too blind to see that.

Benny’s already alerted, slightly turned to the door. Cas doesn’t wait any longer. He walks out of the kitchen into the dining room before Benny has time to say anything. Any other day he would sit quietly and wait for Dean and Tessa to walk out of the house and wouldn’t even notice them, but today he catches them in the middle of the room. The moment they see Cas they go silent. Tessa looks at him like he has grown two heads. Cas doesn’t judge her, they rarely talk, and for some reason he prefers to avoid her.

“What’s going on?” he asks boldly.

Dean looks him in the eyes and Cas reminds himself to breathe. Dean isn’t drunk, Dean isn’t angry, Dean is just looking him in the eyes like Cas is the worst thing that could possibly happen to him.

No, he won’t have that. Not today.

“What’s going on, Dean?” he asks again, stepping forward, “What is it that I should know?”

Cas doesn’t know if Dean will answer, he’s not sure in anything anymore but this one time, he has to know. He knows that it’s important, it has to be. In fact, it’s so important that Benny came here from Louisiana to talk about it.

“Dean has a new project coming up. I thought you knew about it, Mr. Novak,” Tessa’s voice sounds cold and distant. Maybe that’s because he’s not used to talking to her or maybe because he can’t stop looking at Dean, “he signed all the papers couple of weeks ago.”

So he has a new project, but that can’t be it. There’s has to be more to that.

“What kind of project?” Cas demands.

He’s done with knowing nothing about Dean. He’s done with this silent game of theirs; he’s tired of pretending that everything is fine. He’s tired of Dean.

“He’s changing his workplace,” from the corner of his eyes he can see Benny leaning on the wall, with something in his hands, “He’s got an invitation to work in Rome.”

_What?_

Cas looks at Benny. He holds a magazine in his hands. Cas recognizes Dean’s face on the cover.

_What?!_

“I’m flying off tomorrow morning. Thanks for asking,” Dean says finally. He walks past Cas, shoving him in the shoulder.

Cas feels like he can’t breathe anymore. That can’t be right. Dean can’t leave him like this.

“For,” he clears his throat, looking from Tessa to Benny and back, “For how long?”

It is silent in the room, except for the sound of the lighter that Dean holds up to a cigarette in his mouth. It’s so quiet that Cas can clearly hear him inhale the smoke in and breathe it out.

“Seven years,” Tessa finally says, “Maybe more.”

Castiel feels as if someone’s just sucked all the air out of his lungs. He can’t think, can’t move.

Tessa and Benny look at him with pity portrayed so clearly on their faces, Cas might as well throw up. They avoid eye contact, hanging their heads every time Cas catches them staring.

He turns towards Dean, who stands next to a small table, one of the many meaningless pieces of furniture in the house. Dean smokes, playing with the lighter in his hands, and Cas hates everything about it.

“When were you going to tell me?” He steps forward and catches Dean looking at him, with the almost-dead glare of his that Castiel has gotten used to.

He tightens his jaw and evens his breathing. “You were going to leave never telling me, am I right?”

Dean doesn’t answer, looking him straight in the eye. Castiel can feel his hands curl into fists, his heart pounding in his chest.

He can’t believe it. Everything about Dean drives him mad. And he can’t stop it. Nothing in the world has as much power over him as Dean. And that is frightening.

The moment Dean turns away, Cas grabs him by his shoulder, turns him around, and hits him in the jaw. He can hear Tessa shouting, but ignores her. His fist stings a little but he doesn’t care, hitting Dean again when he glances at him. Dean whimpers touching the blood, the starts spilling from his nose.

Cas doesn’t let Dean straighten up, pushing him into the wall.

“This,” he shakes him by the collar of the stained with paint shirt, “ _this_  is what you give to me?” The words are out of him before he can shut his mouth.

Dean breathes out and licks the blood from his upper lip and that has to be the most frustrating thing Cas has ever seen. He hates that. He makes a small step back and hits Dean again.

“Cas, stop!” he hears Benny shout and tries to breathe, but grips the lapels of Dean’s coat again, pushing him into the wall.

“I gave  _everything_  for you,” he growls, watching Dean touch his face again and smear the blood all over his chin with his dirty sleeve, “and you were going to leave me? Just like  _that_?”

Covered in blood, the corner of Dean’s mouth lifts up, but his eyes are hollow. Castiel steps back again, wanting to beat the crap out of him, but Dean is faster, kicking him in the ribs and Cas stumbles back, trying to catch his breath. When he looks at Dean, he sees nothing but red all over his face, before Dean hits him in the face.

“That’s the way  _you_  see it,” Dean snaps, coming closer, “doesn’t make it true.”

How did they come to this? This is childish and stupid. He knows it is, but his head hurts, he can’t breathe and all he wants to do is to break Dean. Expose him, tear down the shell that covers him and see the real him, the shattered pieces of  _Dean_  he once desired so much.

He can’t see well, but he knows that Benny stands in front of him, telling him to stop this. He feels Benny touch his arm and help him stand straight. He hears Tessa talking to Dean. And then the door to the studio closes with a loud thud.

“I need to get out of this place,” he hears himself say when he finally feels solid ground under his feet.

He barely notices Benny nod and that’s enough for him to make it to the door, and get to the goddamn blue car. When the door to the garage finally lifts up far enough, Cas presses on the gas pedal and rides out. The car drives into neighbor’s fence and Cas would be glad that it was a cheap piece of metal if he could care about something as unimportant as someone else’s fence right now.

He makes to the first cheap bar he sees, somehow parks the car and walks into the bar. It’s pretty empty except for several guys here and there, watching football on the TV and drinking their beer.

Cas asks for something stronger than beer. Although he has never understood the passion some people had for alcohol, all he wants to do right now is to drink to the point of passing out and forget that his life is a mess that he can’t put back in order. He considers breaking something to express all his frustration on pieces of cheap furniture that he can pay for later. He wants to harm something so that he’d hurt himself in the process.

But he does not.

Instead he sits in the bar and drinks whiskey that is too strong for his liking. He wonders if maybe he should get a hotel room for the night and return home in the morning, so everyone’s already gone and he doesn’t have to see those faces ever again.

Cas sighs, knowing that he will go back there.  _You just need to see him again, don’t you?_

Yes, he does.

He’s weak and pathetic and lost but he needs to see Dean, before he lets him go.

“Problems, pal?” the bartender asks with an old towel and a mug in his too big hands.

Cas shakes his head, “I would tell you about my problems, but I sincerely don’t think they would entertain you.”

“Try me,” the bartender says.

Castiel looks at him, expecting to see a cunning man who just wants to fool him into buying more drinks. But to his surprise, he doesn’t. The bartender is a bearded-man in his mid-fifties with kind eyes and too-wide shoulders for a person working behind a stand.

So Castiel starts talking.

“I’ve got everything the average person can only dream about.” Cas says, the words lazily coming up in his mind. “But I couldn’t keep the one person that mattered to me most in my life. I was too blind to realize that he began drifting away from me and now he’s leaving.” His voice shakes when he talks. “And all I ever did and achieve was to keep him near me, happy, and healthy, and—” his voice trails off, and he adds quietly, “and still loving me.”

The bartender listens to him, not daring to interrupt, and Cas wonders what is so special about his story. He looks up at the man and sees him nod, smiling to his own thoughts.

“Been there, done that.” he says with the western accent of his, “But, have to tell ya, pal, usin’ money and power to make someone love ya ain’t gonna work. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Castiel’s intrigued by man’s words.

“So, what did you do then?”

The bartender’s smile reaches his eyes. “Quit my job.”

Cas frowns, head tilted to the side.

“Tellin’ ya, I quit my job, moved the hell out of there and opened a bar here. And now I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the town, with a loving wife and two great kids.” The bartender then leans closer to Cas, “Ya wanna know the secret?” When Castiel nods the man whispers, “Live for yourself, man. Nobody’s gonna fall in love with unhappiness.”

Castiel stares at the man even when he turns around and starts working on the next order.

Thinking about his life he realizes that – yes – there’s something very wrong with his life. He has always wanted to be an accountant, but not a billionaire or a famous person. He ran away from this kind of life, away from his family and friends to have a quiet life with someone he loves somewhere in the suburbs.

That’s why living in a small apartment with a not-really-famous artist who was paying for all his debts and studies made him happy. Maybe he was in love with Dean, but much more than that, he was in love with the life they were living.

But they lost that kind of life years ago, and now they’re losing this one too.

“You know,” he says attracting bartender’s attention. “About ten years ago, before I met said person, I was sitting in a bar, similar to this one, and was drinking what I thought back then was my last beer,” Cas sighs lifting a glass to his lips. “Funny, how things repeat.”

Maybe it’d be easy to forget about that night, pretend it never happened. He isn’t sure if Dean erased it from his memory the way he’s not sure Dean still feels anything for him.

“Drinking problem?” The bartender interrupts his thoughts.

Cas shakes his head, “Planned to end my life that night,” he says without hesitation. “The guy saved my life.” The man is quiet, so Castiel continues. “Frankly, I don’t know which one is worse,” he says quietly, “having nothing to lose when you’re left all alone, or fighting for something you can never save.”

When Castiel walks out of the bar it’s already dark. He feels a little bit shaky on his legs and isn’t sure what’s caused it: Dean’s soon-to-be withdrawal or whiskey.

This is the last time he’s going to see Dean and his pride be damned, he wants to see him so much, he wants to see what he saw in those eyes ten years ago, what filled him with hope and desire to live again. He just wants to know that he wasn’t delusional, that it’s still there. He wants to be sure that everything happens for a reason, not because of blind chance.

There’s a huge truck parked next to the house and it makes Cas feel sick, seeing it and knowing that somewhere in there is all Dean’s work of art. Everything Dean has made with his bare hands.

The lights are off, but he knows Dean is home. Somewhere inside of his studio, doing something he has been doing all these years, and Cas had no time to ask about it or take part in it.

He walks in reaching for the switch but stops when he sees Benny sleeping on the coach. So he was waiting for Cas after all. And it’s just like the old times, when Benny was the one to wait for him or Dean to come back every time they had a huge fight.

Cas walks past him to the metal door. He pushes the handle, the one he has never touched before, and it turns pliantly beneath his hands. He opens it and right away smells the unique scent of the studio.

The room he walks into is huge. He knows that it should be pretty big, because he was the one to order it that way, but he didn’t realize  _how_ huge until now.

He walks past the remaining instruments, broken and thrown away easels and nude walls. The floor is dirty and in the half-light Castiel can clearly see the places where sculptures used to stand. A couple of hours ago this room was full of masterpieces that people would pay million dollars to have in their homes, but Cas didn’t care then and it’s too late now.

Cas walks to the one source of lightning that is in the far corner of the room. From where he stands he can see the only sculpture in the room. Dean sits on the floor beside it looking at the piece of clothing covering the sculpture, bottle of whiskey in his hand. He doesn’t react to Castiel’s presence, and Cas thinks maybe he’s too drunk to see anything.

“Is it possible to hate and love the thing at the same time?” Dean asks. His voice is sharp but barely a whisper in the huge empty room.

Cas glances at the sculpture. He’s almost sure he knows what’s under the rag. He can see one side of it shapeless, unfinished. It’s not big, small enough to look wonderful in an apartment.

He swallows. “Never knew you kept it.”

Cas steps closer and sits on the floor, opposite Dean. He looks at the hidden sculpture again, but he knows he can’t see even the smallest part of the wonder that Dean’s able to see.

“Yeah, well, I liked it. Couldn’t let it go to waste,” he shrugs his shoulders and sips from the bottle, the tone of his voice light with an almost-there smile, his eyes gently examining the sculpture as if he can see it right through the rag.

The last time Cas saw him like this, calm and relaxed, was in their old apartment, the night before the accident changed their lives. He remembers that day. He remembers their place full of laughter and colors, and Dean smiling and joking every time he had a break from his work, asking Cas more times than ever if he had liked it – if he had really liked it, was he  _sure_  he liked it, was he sure Sam and Jessica would like it  _too_  – making the most perfect present for his baby brother’s wedding.

He couldn’t stop smiling that day.

Dean looks so peaceful now, the faint shadow of the same smile on his crooked lips. Castiel looks at him and feels the warmth spread in his chest. This doesn’t feel wrong.

This feels right.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Dean says suddenly, “I’m throwing it out anyway.”

Cas isn’t surprised or upset with Dean’s decision. He hates it, but thinks that it should have been done long time ago.

He was sure that Dean got rid of it the night after the funerals. Dean was breaking everything that got in his way, so this one could easily be forgotten in that mess that Dean turned their apartment into. But he kept the only thing that had to be broken.

“Why now?” Cas asks suddenly.

He can’t look away from Dean. There’s so much more to this question, and Dean knows it, but doesn’t answer, like Cas knew he wouldn’t, so he speaks up again.

“You knew you were going to leave months ago, didn’t you?” Dean goes tense, but Cas doesn’t pay attention to it, words spilling from his mouth, “That’s why you acted like a dick all the time. Missing for weeks, raping me? All of that.”

Dean wanted him to hate him, so Cas would get along with his life when he left, or some bullshit of the same kind. And once Castiel says it, he can feel his heart beating faster.

“You think you are the reason I’m unhappy.”

A fake smile covers Dean’s lips but is fast gone, when he glances at Cas, as if he realizes that it won’t work anymore. So he sighs and lifts his head up.

“Dean,” he says quietly, his voice shaking the way it did in the bar, “You’re wrong.”

Dean chuckles, but his face is expressionless. “Yeah, right.”

Cas can’t believe that that was the problem all along. He can’t believe he couldn’t see it, couldn’t talk to Dean for five minutes and figure it all out and fix everything while he still had a chance.

“You  _are_!” He almost shouts, his trembling voice reverberating in his own ears. “Everything I’ve ever done—I did it for  _you_. So just, don’t you ever—”

The words feel worse than whiskey; the ugly lies that sound so pretty in his head but it’s when they’re out they feel bitter and untrue.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

When Dean looks at Cas, his eyes are not hollow or dead. They’re full of hatred.

Everything suddenly makes so much more sense.

He’s not the one Dean hates. And that thought is at once the most pleasant and painful thing he has ever had to bear in his heart.

When Castiel wakes up next day he feels zoned out, so he just lies there with his eyes open. He doesn't remember falling asleep in his bed, he doesn't remember falling asleep at all. He stands up and walks to the window. The truck before his house is gone, and so is Dean. And this time it's for good.

He stands and looks out of the window for almost an hour not even realizing that. He doesn’t care what’s going on in there, he wouldn’t even care if a plane crashed into the house.

It’s quite in the house. Usually he could hear Dean work in his studio, or talk to someone. There would be some kind of sound and action going downstairs. But now it’s just him.

He doesn't know what to do with himself now.

So he sits on his bed for two hours. Not doing anything, just sitting on it.

Benny finds his room some time later.

“Hey, b-guy,” he says knocking on the open door, “Just wanted to let you know that I'm going home.”

Cas nods, but doesn't look at him, “You and Andrea,” he says, sounding robotic even to himself, “Still together?”

From the corner of his eyes he can see Benny smile and nod, “Yeah,” he says, “the light of my life,” he’s quiet for some time. “We got married last winter.”

Cas wants to feel happy for them, but he just can't, “I know. I got the invitation.” He wishes he could say that he will visit them one day but he doesn't think he'll be telling the truth then.

Benny sighs.

“I'm gonna take off then. Take care, buddy,” he waves his hand kind of awkwardly and walks out of the room. A minute later Cas hears a car start under his windows.

Next day he drives to work. He tries to focus on the task as he always does, but he finds himself uninterested in what he’s been doing all this time; makes a mistake after mistake and with spreading rumors about his promotion planned on Friday this has to be the worst day of his life.

But no, Tuesday brings even more disappointments. He couldn't fall asleep last night so he feels spaced out for the rest of the day, having no idea what people around him are talking about, practically falling asleep on a meeting, forgetting about phone calls and leaving clients on the lines for hours.

He has to physically drag himself to work on Wednesday after two hours of sleep. Throughout the day he feels everybody's eyes follow him whenever he has to go out of his office. Every time he closed the door behind him he could hear them whisper in the next room. And Cas wouldn't mind that any other day, but he finds himself feeling sick of it. He runs into somebody reading a magazine and he’s pretty sure he can read Dean's name on it.

Also he’s pretty sure he’s going crazy.

He calls in ill on Thursday. He physically can’t make himself move out of bed, he’s too tired, he tells himself, he needs some rest. But he can’t sleep. He lies in the bed till it starts getting darker.

Castiel knows that he has to go to work tomorrow so he drinks something to get some sleep and gets into the bed again.

He wakes up three hours later covered in cold sweat, his breathing uneven and every limb shivering. He sits in his bed, breathing in and out, trying to calm himself down. His hands shake when he touches his wet cheeks.

_I want you to remember this night, Cas._

Castiel swallows, closing his eyes, and tries to think of something else. But his still sleepy mind won't let him.

_Because this is all you’re good for._

He shudders with disgust. Dean's voice sounds so clear in his head. Almost as if he was right here, whispering these words right into Castiel's ear, touching him, moving his hands slowly up his thighs, torso, his neck, covering it with his hand making it difficult to breathe.

_Such a slut for me._

Cas opens his eyes and turns around. But there's no one behind him. He doesn't know what he expected there to be. Dean is gone.

“He’s gone.”


	3. Part III.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7 YEARS LATER
> 
> Sometimes Castiel wonders what would’ve happened in his life if he’d never made certain decisions. Like when he told his parents that he might be into men and ended up in the streets, because it was either that or a therapy. Or when he’d tried getting a job and was fired three times and had to live in the streets for months, turning down men who had actually tried having sex with him and offering him money for it.

7 YEARS LATER

Sometimes Castiel wonders what would’ve happened in his life if he’d never made certain decisions. Like when he told his parents that he might be into men and ended up in the streets, because it was either that or a therapy. Or when he’d tried getting a job and was fired three times and had to live in the streets for months, turning down men who had actually tried having sex with him and offering him money for it.

He wonders if it would be easier to get a decent job if his parents had actually asked him to do any work in the house, if he knew anything about working at all.

He’s thought about stuff like that a lot recently. He occupies his own thoughts with philosophical questions, while his hands move automatically, taking the luggage out of the car’s trunk.

The door to the house is already opening, when he starts climbing the stairs.

“Oh, honey, let me look at you!”

Mary hasn’t changed. Although it’s been a long time since he’s seen her, she doesn’t look older. Her eyes are bright with love and she’s ready to give it to anybody.

Her hands are soft, when she hugs him. No hard work could harden her skin; no bad news could darken her thoughts. She’s perfect. Maybe a bit too perfect.

He smiles, when she touches his cheek gently. “Hello, Mary.”

“Daphne, darling!” she exclaims, the moment she sees Castiel’s girlfriend come from behind him.

Cas thinks she acts too happy for the mother of the guy Castiel’s been with for so long.

But maybe after all they’ve been through, she loves him no matter what, and he finds himself thankful, because he has never felt this kind of motherly love before Mary.

“Mrs. Winchester, you look so good!” Daphne smiles.

Oh yeah, Mary and Daphne became best friends the day they met. And Castiel honestly doesn’t know what to think of it. It was just pure luck, that after all these years of being close to Mary, he’d tried and succeeded at finding the one girl in the whole world who was exactly like her.

He smiles politely when Mary invites them inside. She and Daphne start chatting and laughing like they’re long lost sisters while Cas takes their luggage upstairs to the room they usually stay in.

When he gets downstairs, he can smell the tasty Christmas dinner Mary must have prepared for them right away. Everything is decorated with holiday themed toys, as always. And with fire in the fireplace, Frank Sinatra singing quietly, and girls chatting in the kitchen, Cas lets all his worries disappear.

When the voices get silent he opens his eyes, to check if everything’s okay. Mary is standing in front of him with a smile on her face and two cups in her hands.

“Here you go, baby,” she says, giving him one of the cups.

Mary has always been like that. Since the day he’s met her, she’s always been full of hope and love and joy. When Castiel got to know their family better, he could not believe that a family like that could exist. Even John, with his masculinity and strict pose somehow grew on Cas, once he'd finally accepted his son’s choices in life and started treating Castiel as a family member. He even once offered to pay for Castiel’s education so it was easier for Dean to support them.

Castiel’s sure, most of that was Mary’s merit.

“Thank you, Mary.”

He sits up straight, and takes the offered treat. Mary sits opposite to him and watches him sip hot tea. Daphne comes into the room and sits on the armrest next to him.

It’s like a picture from a Christmas card. And Cas should feel happy, but for some reason, there’s a subdued panging feeling inside of his chest.

“So, tell me, how are you?” She leans forward, her eyes suddenly getting worrisome. “You look tired, sweetie.”

Cas clears his throat, tensing a bit. He feels Daphne’s hands on his back, soothing him, and tries to relax.

“Well,” he starts but then realizes he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want Mary to worry about him, but at the same time he doesn’t know why he feels this way.

“Castiel has been working two shifts lately,” Daphne comes to rescue, with that tender and loving voice of hers. “But good news are, his psychologist said that he doesn’t need to see him anymore,” she says proudly.

“Oh!” Mary exclaims, her slightly creased up eyes widening with joy and happiness, “My goodness, Cas! I’m so happy and proud of you, honey!” Daphne squeezes his hand in hers. “This should be celebrated,” Mary decides.

She stands up and walks to the kitchen, but before she can open a champagne bottle, the telephone rings and she hurries to get it.

“Was it really necessary to tell Mary about that?” Castiel asks Daphne once Mary isn’t in the room.

She smiles. “Look how happy that made her,” she tells him, and because she notices his uneasiness, she touches his cheek reassuringly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

He nods, he wants believe her, but anyway, he feels weak and selfish, and there’s something missing in him, a part no psychologist or doctor can fix.

When Mary comes into the room again, they turn around, expecting her to bring champagne and glasses to celebrate. But for some reason her face is pale and her hands shake, holding up the phone. Castiel and Daphne stand up, alerted.

They wait for her to say something, but she is quiet, her eyes full of tears.

“Mary?” Castiel asks cautiously. But she doesn’t react, and Cas feels as if he is unable to breathe. He swallows, glancing at Daphne.

Mary takes a deep breath. “Jessica, she’s…” Her voice trails off, and she breaks down crying before she can finish the sentence.

She doesn’t have to though, because they know what that means.

Daphne rushes to hug Mary. She holds and soothes her saying something to her, trying to calm her down. Castiel turns around: he can’t see Mary like that.

He has never seen her break down. Even when John died, she said that her husband had lead a great life and she was sure he was in Heaven, happy and waiting for her.

When Sam died he was too late to see her cry. She was quiet and almost emotionless the whole time.

She has always been so strong in his eyes; he can’t watch her break down now.

“I’ll drive to the hospital,” he says and walks out, the sobs and shaking voices silenced with a bang of the door.

 

The funeral is quite like they always are. There aren’t many people. Nobody dares to talk, nobody even cries. Castiel thinks that during all those years in coma, Jessica has already been dead to everyone; they accepted it a long time ago.

Everybody did, except Mary. She still was carrying her flowers and presents and fruit baskets, telling her stories, believing that if nothing else, love could wake the girl up.

Castiel looks at the sad faces of Jessica’s few remaining friends. He doesn’t know most of these people, and he can’t help but think that he could have met all these people eleven years ago on the day of Jessica’s and Sam’s marriage.

When they start talking about Jessica, and how in love she was with Sam, and how these eleven years seemed full of the hope that one day she might be alive again, he knows he can’t take it anymore. He wants to get home and never visit this place ever again.

Somebody says that maybe she couldn’t live without the person she loved most.

Somebody says that she could have had a great future.

Daphne takes his hand and draws small circles with her thumb. He smiles sadly to assure her that he’s fine. Although Daphne never knew Jessica or Sam, he told her about them and almost everything about his life before he met her. And she in return told him everything about herself.

Repast takes place in Mary’s house, and when they get back from funerals there’s nothing reminding them of festivities anymore.

People dressed all in black talk quietly and eat food that Mary and Daphne have cooked the night before. Everybody comes up to Mary and Cas to express their condolences, because Jessica didn’t have any other family except for the two of them.

Mary busies herself, serving food and talking to people so she doesn’t glance at the door every twenty seconds waiting for the one person that will never show up.

Castiel tries to stay out of sight the whole day. There are people he doesn’t want to talk to, old friends of his that he hasn’t seen in ages and isn’t ready to face now. Not everyone, but most of them. They’re avoiding him, and he’s doing the same, so it looks like he’s going to be fine here after all.

He’s watching from the kitchen’s window as someone leaves and someone arrives. He wishes everybody would leave early, so they can just do whatever needs to be done and get this finished with.

“Whoa,” he hears a familiar female voice and turns around. “Wasn’t sure it was you at first, but hey, guess what, it  _is_  you.”

Castiel doesn’t know if he should be happy, but the smile still reaches his eyes. “Hello, Charlie,” he nods.

The redhead is so much older than he remembers. She’s more a woman now, with her confident movements and calm gaze. She’s clothed in all black, and looks kind of out of place with her small smile and rosy cheeks.

“Hey there, b-guy,” Charlie smiles and steps forward to hug him. “It’s been a while.”

Cas wraps his arms around her and breathes out. “It has.”

When she lets him go, she looks worried and apologetic. “I’m sorry about Jessica. Never knew her, but, you know, Sam’s fiancé should have been awesome.”

Cas nods, “She was.”

Somebody walks into the kitchen and they fall into comfortable silence, waiting for person to leave.

“So,” Charlie starts, turning around when they’re alone, “How’ve you been? Read about you a lot in newspapers and magazines and watched you both on TV.”

Cas feels his heart skip a bit. “We’ve been fine, I guess,” he says, his throat tight. “I know I’ve been.”

Charlie nods understandingly. “So you know nothin’ about Dean? How’s that?” She looks surprised.

“We broke up,” he says and the words feel odd on his tongue. “Seven years ago.”

Charlie looks at him apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry, I never knew. Though I should have guessed,” she adds, her voice quiet.

She glances around the empty room, looking nervous, like she isn’t sure if she has the right to ask a certain kind of questions.

Charlie was a close friend of theirs until she left one day without saying goodbye or leaving any messages. Castiel thought it had something to do with illegal codes and programs she had been selling, so he tried not to be hard on her, though he still was worried.

He wants to ask how she’s been, what’s happened to her, but Charlie is faster.

“My life hasn’t been the most thrilling, you know. One day I’m living my quite, illegal life, the next, I’m told that somebody’s after me and I have to leave immediately.” She sighs, looking up at Cas. “When I’m back home, everybody’s talking about Sam, and your burned-to-ashes apartment, and Dean going crazy, and you earning billions of dollars and buying that madly huge house of yours for like twenty people.” She tries to laugh, but it turns out to be not very convincing. “I tried to visit you guys, I really did, but…” She sighs, not finishing.

“You shouldn’t make excuses, Charlie.” Cas says, interrupting her. “If I was strong enough back then I would have left too.”

Charlie looks at him like she doesn’t believe he could say a thing like that and that it actually hurts her to hear his words. She opens her mouth to say something, but then turns away, shaking her head.

“I’ve heard about you two. But I just couldn’t believe it was true. I mean it sounded so—so not  _you and Dean_.”

It’s been too long since Cas has seen Charlie, too long to be sure that he can be as close to this person as he used to be. Time can do cruel things to people you love, and he’s afraid, he is not the only one that hasn’t lived but tried to survive these years.

Now when Cas looks at her he sees a tired girl; her rosy cheeks – just make up to hide her pale face, red hair too bright to be natural.

“I know I’m late to say stuff like that, but anyway…” When she turns around her eyes are glistening with hope and joy of memories. “Has Dean ever told you how he met you for the first time?”

Cas is unsure of why Charlie would ask such a thing. Everybody knows how they met.

Charlie shakes her head, no. “Dean met you before that day, Cas.” She smiles a little. “He told me that he had run into you for at least three times, and when he saw you in that bar he’d promised himself that either you would be the first guy he slept with or he’d never even think about fucking guys ever again.”

Castiel is clearly surprised. He doesn’t remember seeing Dean before they met. And why has Dean never told him about it?

“So, I was Dean’s first guy?” He asks dumbly.

Charlie smiles, “Yeah, I thought you would’ve figured that out by now.”

“Well, when he said that it was his first time, I thought he was talking about being on top.”

Charlie laughs quietly, and Castiel smiles, proud with himself. For several moments it’s just like the old days, and Castiel actually forgets about the past, and Jessica, and everybody outside the kitchen. It’s like he finally has a chance to be himself for some time.

And it looks like Charlie agrees with him. But then her smile fades and she talks seriously.

“You know what?” Charlie asks, “If I was there—if I just was there for you guys — I would smash your stupid faces together and make you two apologize to each other till both of you were as disgustingly happy and in love as you used to be. Till you fixed whatever there was to fix.”

He knows that she would. She was the one they talked to when they were on the edge of breaking up. She was the one to make them whole again. But this time she wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Castiel swallows, averting his gaze. “That’s the problem. There was nothing left to fix, Charlie.” He struggles to remember all those times he tried to talk to Dean. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” He says at last, being unsure if he has ever tried at all.

Charlie’s quiet, thinking about that. “No, you know what?” She asks, shaking her head. “That is total bullshit!” She says in the end. “I know Sam meant a lot to Dean and you, but he meant a lot to me too. Hell, the boy has saved my ass more than I’ll ever be able to pay back! And when I was told about the accident, I—I was a mess. I cried for a week! And that’s the most crying I’ve done in my life. So believe me when I say it was hard for me—hell, it was hard for everyone!” She sniffles.

 “Charlie—” Cas says stepping forward, but whatever it was he was going to say, he forgets about the moment Charlie looks at him.

She breathes out, walks to the sink, and grabs a towel, hiding her face in it. Castiel waits for her to calm down. When she finally looks at him, her eyes are a bit red.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m just upset with people in this family dying and getting hurt all the time. It’s like it’s cursed or something,” she says, and then quickly adds “sorry.”

Cas nods understandingly, not even slightly offended. He drops the subject, not wanting to see Charlie upset again.

“How’re the Harvelles?” Charlie nods, breathing out a quiet ‘they’re fine’. “How’s Benny? And Andrea?” he asks, hoping to make her feel better. “I haven’t seen them today.”

Charlie averts her eyes. “Ehm… He’s been busy, I guess—he…” she mumbles, like there’s a secret she has to keep, but then sighs giving up. “He’s mad at you, alright?”

Now when Cas thinks about that, it actually makes sense. He tried calling him, but Benny has never answered the phone, so Castiel honestly thought that he had changed his number. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she nods, compressing her lips. “He was angry with you not showing up on his wedding, really angry and disappointed, but he let it go after a while.” She sighs, stepping forward. “But he has asked you two to come and see his children for  _years_  now, Cas! And this children thing, it’s kind of important for him, so yeah. He’s mad. I’d say even pissed.”

Cas tries to imagine Sam and Jessica having children and Benny not visiting them ever. And he gets it. He really does, even though it wouldn’t be his children, he knows he would be really angry with Benny in that scenario. But Benny would never ignore them the way they did. He has to apologize.

“When is his child’s next birthday?”

Charlie looks surprised. “January thirteen, why?”

Cas nods, “I’ll be there.” Charlie smiles, and he smiles back, proud of himself. “And Dean will be there too.”

Charlie’s doesn’t look convinced with that one. “Really?”

He doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, but he knows he has to. He wants to make people happy the way he has just made Charlie happy.

 

After two or three hours the guests say their goodbyes and leave. When everybody’s gone, Mary starts cleaning up the mess. She looks tired and broken, like the last piece of hope has been taken from her.

“Mary,” Castiel says, taking dishes from her hands, “You need some rest. I’ll do this.” The woman smiles at him thankfully, touches his cheek gently and walks out silently, like words are too heavy for her. “You too, Daphne,” he says, turning around. “You’ve helped enough.”

“Are you sure?” Daphne asks him.

She’s tired too, he can see. It’s been a tragedy for her, like it was for him and Mary, and even though she’s never known Jessica or anyone who’s come to express their condolences, she too looks pale and exhausted, so he nods.

“Goodnight, love,” she says, and kisses his cheek.

It is quiet in the house when Castiel is left alone in the living room with half empty plates and glasses. He starts cleaning everything up, taking dishes to the kitchen and throwing away the food that Mary and Daphne worked so hard to cook. He washes the dishes, cleans the tables, and puts away food that’s left untouched in the fridge.

It’s half an hour later when he sighs and looks around, making sure he has cleaned everything, not leaving a spot, so Mary won’t worry about this again.

He then opens his laptop and checks the address he was emailed earlier that night.

When he finally makes up his mind, it’s already about midnight. This December night is cold and sends chills down his spine. The paper in his hands is dirty and crumpled already, but the words are written clearly, even though he’s learnt the address by heart by now.

He isn’t sure if this is the right time to do this, but he knows that today will be the last day he is able to find him, so he has to try.

Castiel gets into his car and starts it. The motel is not a long drive from Mary’s house, but it’s still too cold to walk.

When he sees motel neon lights his heart skips a beat. He has a thousand things to say, but he knows he won’t. He’s here to talk about Benny, not himself.

The motel’s hall smells disgusting. Cas ignores it and checks the number of the room on the paper for the last time.

The door he’s standing in front of is a cheap thing with dirty spots on it, like everything else in this motel. He knocks two times, holding his breath.

“Nobody’s home,” he hears a hoarse but familiar voice. “Go away!”

For a moment there Cas thinks Dean knows it’s him and feels like the ground under his legs starts shaking. But there’s no way that could be, so he knocks again.

“Are you fucking dumb? I said go the fuck away!”

Cas doesn’t think twice to start honestly pounding the door with his fist. He hears rustling behind the door, and stops.

“I’m not giving you money,” the voice starts getting closer and so the strange noise, “So you can go fu—”

The moment the door opens, everything falls silent.

Cas swallows, his heart pounding so fast and hard he can’t hear his own thoughts.

He looks at Dean’s face, trailing all the little marks that years left there with his gaze: the wrinkles that frame his eyes, the creases between his eyebrows; the way his eyes – still green, still so,  _so_  warm – pierce through him; the way his mouth is hanging slightly open but no words come out, no sound.

He swallows again, trying to collect his thoughts. “Tessa contacted—”

“Tessa, right,” Dean says, cutting him off. He chews his bottom lip, looking thoughtful, but then steps back, turning around and walking away.

“She told me you haven’t answered her calls for days,” he explains, opening the door fully and walking in, the smell of cigarettes and spoiled food hitting him right away.

He glances at Dean, noticing something strange about the way he moves. Dean leans on a crutch when he walks, and his leg is wrapped in a fabric of some kind.

“Tell her to cut off the drama. Hasn’t even been a week.”

Castiel watches him struggle a bit, trying to sit on the couch and then pull the damaged leg on it. When he does, he lets out a sigh, and Cas feels like somebody has punched him in the guts.

“What’s wrong with your leg?” Castiel asks, watching Dean put the crutch away with his left hand while he works his other hand.

Dean looks at him like it’s the most stupid question in the whole universe. “What d’ya think, genius? ‘S broken.”

Cas tightens his jaw. “Thank you for the helpful information, Dean, but I have already noticed that. What  _happened_  to your leg?”

Dean doesn’t even spare him a glare. “A warm  _thanks for restoring our fucking fourteenth century cathedral_  from Italy.”

“They beat you up?” Cas asks dumbly. “Why?”

When Dean looks at him again, the question  _Are you a fucking idiot?_  is fast gone, and something else replaces it, smoothing the uneasiness on his face, making him blink and turn away.

“They didn’t beat me, Christ,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair. “I fell when I was restoring the ceiling mosaic,” Dean swallows, looking at the bandaged leg like it’s nothing much. “Doc said I was lucky to be alive, although the leg might never heal right. Aren’t I the luckiest fucking son-of-a-bitch?” he asks, turning to look at Cas again with a smile on his face and Castiel has to look away.

That’s just so unfair. Dean has suffered so much in his life and now this is what he gets after everything? It’s like the world doesn’t make any sense anymore. Everything is a blind chance, it’s not even a question by now. There’s no destiny, because if there was, Dean’s should be so much better, Castiel knows it should.

“Anyway, what d’ya want?”

Cas licks his lips, ready to say it’s nothing, and forget all this like it’s the dumbest idea he’s ever had, but he made a promise.

“I want you to apologize,” he says, feeling more confident now, when he’s actually saying the words. “To everybody. I want you to come with me to Benny’s daughter's birthday party and I want us to apologize to every friend we abandoned.”

Dean looks like he’s offended, and Cas gets it. He too once thought that they were the ones who were abandoned, but no, it was so much more complicated than he thought.

There is no one’s fault in what happened and why everyone’s separated, but there are ways to make it better.

“And what makes you think that I’m gonna do that?” Dean asks like a spoiled child.

“If you don’t do that, I’ll make you,” Cas answers simply.

Dean chuckles. “How? You gonna drag me there, chaining my broken leg to the trunk of your beloved car?”

And really, he hates every word in that sentence. Everything Dean says hurts him and what hurts most is that Dean knows it and is doing it deliberately for some reason.

“I’ll think of something.”

“Then come back when you have a fucking idea.”

Cas turns around and walks to the door, but then thinks better of it. “No,” he says turning around. “No, I’m here now, and we’re going to talk  _now_. And if you have something against that, you’re welcome to fight your way out of here. And I won’t show any mercy just because you were careless enough to break your leg.”

He stays in front of the door, blocking the way out, and they both know Dean has zero chances of overpowering him in his situation.

 “Jeez, when did  _you_  become such a mouthful prick?”

“Seven years is a long time,” and he wants to sound as confident as he did before but his voice trails off.

Dean nods, grabbing a bottle of beer from the table next to the coach. “So I’ve heard.” He looks thoughtful – calm or regretful, Cas isn’t sure. But there’s something in his gaze that has changed. And it occurs to Cas that it has been seven years for Dean too.

He looks at him like he sees him the first time. This is not the guy he has fallen in love with. This is a man, with stubble on his face, and wrinkles around his eyes and a voice much lower than it used to be. And Castiel is sure that if they hadn’t met when they were nineteen, but now, he would make all the same mistakes over and over again.

“Let’s talk then.” Dean glances at Cas and it’s like everything’s gone from his eyes. “New job, new place… new girl,” Castiel feels his cheeks warm up. “Seeing a psychologist,” he gulps and shakes his head.

“How did you—?”

“Where’s all the glory, huh, Cas? Where’s your money that you so _passionately_  worked for?”

Seven years of therapy and Castiel is sure he’s going to lose it just from ten minutes of talking to him.

“If you’re trying to make me angry, it’s not working,” he lies and steps forward, “As you have noticed, I’ve changed. I’m not the person I used to be and you have no power over me, not anymore.”

Dean looks him in the eyes for some time like Castiel is an unfinished sculpture and Dean is seeking imperfections to fix. Then he smiles, and Cas feels something in his belly heat up.

“Nah, you’re still in love with me.”

And just like that it’s like these 7 years have never existed, eleven fucking years never been real. Because no matter how old they get, no matter if they have wrinkles or broken hearts, their eyes will never stop looking for each other.

It’s so fucking unfair Castiel wants to scream. Because it shouldn’t be like this, they should’ve let each other go, should’ve forgot about it and moved on. That’s what people do, don’t they, when there’s nothing to stay for?

At first Cas thinks Dean laughs at him, but no, Dean is not laughing. That smile on his lips is one of… relief?

“We’re hopeless, aren’t we?” He asks quietly, his eyes looking at Castiel and for a moment, Cas is sure he’s forgotten how to breathe.

His heart is pounding so hard and fast that, he’s sure, Dean can hear it, and that scares him most. Because he knows better than to be fooled again. That tender voice, those glowing green eyes that look at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world — it’s just a lie; it has to be a lie.

Dean has changed too. He’s not the naïve guy Castiel met seventeen years ago.

“No, we are not,” Cas says firmly, holding their gazes locked.

In a split second the hurt in Dean’s eyes are gone being replace by a fake smile on his lips.

“Really, Cas?” He chuckles hollowly, which makes Cas gulp. This is the exact same face Cas has been seeing in his nightmares. He regrets his words almost instantly.

“Oh, no, I get it,” he says, averting his gaze, “You have a girlfriend now, you have a  _normal life_.” He spits the last two words like they disgust them.

“Dean—” Cas tries, stepping forward. He wants to explain that they’re not good for each other, they’re a destroying force that breakes both their lives and hearts.

“No, you know what?” Dean asks, pulling his leg down, and Cas can’t stand looking at that. “You’re a fucking liar, that’s who you are, Cas!” He shouts, standing up, holding crutch again. “At least I’m not fooling myself and anyone in between.” His voice gets louder. “You want me to apologize to everyone?” He steps closer to Cas, staring him in the face. “You think they want it? I’ve heard differently, Cas. Nobody wants us there, and no apologies can make them change their minds. So stop lying to them and yourself, because it’s not gonna do anybody any good.”

Castiel feels something inside of him heat up, but this time, it’s just pure anger.

“Sometimes it’s better to lie than hurt people who care about you,” he says in defense.

“Oh, that’s fucking deep, man! I bet that’s what you tell yourself when you’re fucking that whore and think about me!”

The moment Dean says it, he regrets his words, his face goes blank, and his mouth opens as if to apologize. But he doesn’t. He looks at Cas like he’s expecting him to hit him.

Cas’ jaw clenches. His hand fists, even though he knows he won’t hit Dean. Not in the condition he’s in.

The moment he’s sure he’s going to lose it, he looks at Dean again, but sees no anger or hatred in his eyes; only loneliness. He breathes out, his hand unclenching. Castiel looks around the room: it’s dirty, it smells disgustingly, it’s dark in here and Cas is sure Dean has been here since Jessica’s death.

He was sitting here all alone during the funerals and the repast. He didn’t dare to show up, he was afraid.

Was he planning on dying in here?

Whatever it was, Cas is sure as hell not going to let him do it.

He sighs, knowing what he has to do now. He was blinded before by his own hurt, by his ambitions and feelings and loneliness. Now he sees clearly, and knows what to do.

“You won’t make me leave, Dean,” he says quietly. “I’m here to talk to you, not blame you or me or anyone. I’m over that.” The words fall easily from his mouth. “And this is not even about us anymore.”

Dean looks surprised. He averts his gaze and turns away, the crutch hitting the coffee table in process and Dean flinches.

Cas shakes his head. “This is… This is far from okay, Dean.” He says gesturing to the room. “I don’t care how or why, but you  _have_ _to_  make yourself see people again. Stop this madness! If you’re not going to help yourself, be sure, that I’m not going anywhere.” He steps forward. “And if I have to I’ll drag you there, chaining your leg to the trunk of my  _beloved_ car, believe me, I will.”

He looks at Dean for the last time today and walks out, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Part IV.

“I wuv you! I wuv you! I wuv you! I wuv you! I wu—”

“Cut that out.”

Cas feels Jo’s annoyed look on the back of his head. But the toy in his hand is so… captivating. It’s a small blonde boy with two huge green eyes and few tiny freckles under them. And this toy should be nice, but for some reason his brows are furrowed and he lacks a cute little smile on his face. It seems like whoever was making it accidentally sewed the mouth upside-down. It’s a simple little thing and every time you squeeze it the toy declares his love to you.

So all together the boy looks like he’s really angry with the fact that he ‘wuvs you’.

“I wuv you!”

Jo sighs. “Cas, that really,  _really_  pisses me off.” Jo says, her teeth squeezed tight. “Stop it.”

Cas glances at her, and then looks back at the toy, and just because he can, he pushes it again.

“Okay, that’s it!” Jo shouts. “Give me that fucking thing!” She reaches out to grab the toy, but Cas easily lifts his hand, preventing her from doing so.

“No. I like it, and I’m buying it,” he says seriously.

Jo stops and looks at him. “Don’t you dare.”

They look at each other intensely. Cas smiles and Jo looks at him like she’s going to murder him in his sleep. But then she shakes her head and turns around. “Whatever,” she says carelessly and starts walking away. “Like I fucking care.”

Cas squeezes the toy again and Jo stops immediately. “Don’t you?” he says smugly.

“Will you just drop it, guys? Everybody’s looking at you two,” Charlie whispers, coming out from behind him. “Cas, we’re here to look for the present for the child, not a—” she glances at the toy and the ending of the sentence stays unfinished. “Anyway, I think I’ve found something.”

“Me too, actually,” Jo says proudly holding a collection of toy knives in her hands.

Charlie looks confused. “Jo, in case you’ve forgotten, she’s a  _girl_.”

Jo shrugs her shoulders, “So what? I once was a baby girl too. Didn’t bother me.”

Charlie sighs. “Alright, as you wish.” Jo smiles proudly and goes to the checkout, where Castiel guesses her fiancé is waiting for her. Charlie shakes her head and turns to Cas. “What about you? Found anything?”

Castiel has been looking at the toy the entire time. He isn’t sure what it was about the toy that made it so hard to let it go. It loves you even though you hurt it; and it’s angry about it, though it doesn’t stop telling you nice things.

“I’ll buy her one of these.”

He hears Charlie sigh, but she doesn’t try to talk him out of it, so he guesses it’s more acceptable than a collection of knives.

The girls talk all the way to the hotel. They talk about everything that’s happened to them throughout the years, and neither Castiel nor Jo’s fiancé try to stop them or joke about it. They occasionally share glances but don’t talk at all. Castiel met the guy several hours ago so he’s uncertain if starting a dialogue is acceptable.

Castiel watches as Jo drags the guy to their room, talking to him about taking showers together and clearly making him uncomfortable. Charlie laughs, opening the door to their room.

They don’t need long to prepare.

Castiel is a bit nervous, when they’re all seated in a car. Charlie tells him that Benny was so pissed about everything he even missed Jessica’s funeral. He doesn’t know how he’ll react when he sees him.

The girls and Jo’s fiancé try to cheer him up, telling different stories about previous birthday parties at Benny’s house. When he finally sees Benny’s house, he’s surprised. It’s not that the house is big; it’s the amount of cars and people gathered there.

It looks like Benny is quite a famous guy in town, Castiel decides, seeing how many people have come to congratulate his daughter.

“As far as I know, Benny’s now a head of some big organization, or something like that,” Jo says, noticing Castiel’s concern. “He doesn’t talk about it much, so we don’t ask. But he’s a popular guy here.”

The closer they get to the place, the more anxious Castiel gets. He doesn’t know if it was alright for him to show up unannounced, and he’s almost sure that Dean’s ditched him again.

He didn’t answer Cas’ calls, and the last time he talked to Tessa, she said that she hadn’t heard of him since Rome.

“Hey, relax, Cas,” Charlie says, “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Castiel smiles. But that doesn’t ease his nervousness.

Charlie and Jo practically drag him out of the car with soothing words and convincing him that it’ll be alright. Jo’s fiancé carries all their presents to the front door, and waits for them to cheer him up a bit.

“I’m fine,” Cas says, straightening up. “I am. Jo’s fiancé’s waiting. Let’s go.”

Jo sighs. “For the last time, Cas. His name’s Victor,” she says, putting her arms around the guy’s possessively and tenderly. He looks at her and smiles and Castiel feels truly happy for them.

He’s never talked to Jo much, even when they were close. She was the youngest of all of them, so they rarely spent time together, fearing Mrs. Harvelle’s rage. But anyway, he has always felt protective of her, like a little sister he’s left at home - even though he knows she doesn’t need to be looked after. She can kick asses better than anybody (thanks to Mrs. Harvelle).

Anyway it was long time ago, everything’s changed now.

“Oh, really?” he hears Benny’s voice, and turns around.

He doesn’t look pleased but he doesn’t look angry either, so Cas takes a chance. “I—” he starts, then tears his present from Jo’s fiancé’s – Victor’s – hands, and holds it to Benny, “Happy Birthday. To your daughter, I mean…” he swallows, feeling dumb.

He’s sure, if Benny asks him to leave now, that’s what he’ll do, because people don’t do that. They don’t come unannounced to their friend’s children’s birthday parties. How could he be so dumb? He’d better leave now and not embarrass himself any further.

Benny chuckles suddenly. “Come ‘ere,” he says, pulling Cas to him and hugging him again, the way he did before. “’S nice to see you, buddy.”

It seems like half of his worries leave him once he feels Benny smile against his cheek and he breathes out, hugging his friend back.

Cas isn’t sure why, but it appears that all his friends are the most forgiving and kind-hearted human beings he has ever met. He knows he of all people doesn’t deserve that, but seeing them smile at him makes him so much more happier than he has felt for so, so long.

Castiel hugs Andrea as well, apologizing for ignoring them and coming uninvited. She tells him that it’s fine as long as he won’t vanish and visit them more often. She introduces Cas to their younger daughter, and really, she’s the prettiest child Castiel has ever seen. He gives her the toy, and the girl hugs him in return, saying that the boy is really “pretty”.

The whole birthday party passes in a blur of smiles and laughter and children running around playing with new toys. Cas meets new people, who almost immediately recognize him as a guy who was a billionaire once but for some reason gave all his money to charity and actually disappeared from the TVs and magazines. They ask him uncomfortable questions like _why did he do that_? And  _did_   _he really have a psychologist_? And  _did he live with that other guy because he liked his artwork or was he really gay_?

Benny comes to rescue him once in a while and Cas is thankful for that. He isn’t used to socialization of this kind, but he smiles and jokes anyway and people even get his jokes from time to time, and that feels… nice.

Halfway through the night one of the many mothers asks Cas to hold her child, because she needs to change her other child’s diaper. Castiel isn’t sure if he is doing anything wrong, but before he can ask somebody for help, the baby throws up on him.

Jo laughs quietly, helping Cas out and taking the baby from him, and Charlie leads Cas to the bathroom and asks him to take off his trench coat so she could wash it.

“How can child’s spew smell that disgusting?” Castiel asks, giving his trench coat to Charlie. “What do they feed him?”

Charlie chuckles and leans back to look at Jo, who’s holding the baby. She brushes the dirt off the baby’s face and smiles, looking peacefully and surprisingly like an adult. Victor stands right beside her, he says something, and the child starts laughing for some reason. Victor smiles too, probably feeling proud of himself.

“Look at them. They’re practically a family,” Charlie says, unable to tear her gaze from them. “One day they’re gonna have children who will call us  _Aunt Charlie_  and  _Uncle Cas_.” She says dreamingly, and then looks back at Cas. “And, who knows, maybe one day we’ll have children of our own too, right?”

Cas nods, “Right.”

 

After several hours guests start leaving. The children are tired and sleepy, so the parents decide it’s time to call it a night. Andrea puts her children to bed, and in the end it’s just the closest friends sitting in the kitchen and laughing at something that happened so long ago Castiel isn’t even sure happened at all.

“Oh, no you  _totally_  had the hots for Dean!” Charlie shouts, laughing and making Jo even redder. “Relax, it’s not like that’s news to anyone.”

“Well, that’s news to  _me_ ,” says Jo’s fiancé and looks at Jo, but there’re no signs of jealousy there, just pure admiration.

Jo is clearly embarrassed. “Hey, he was the prettiest guy in the town. Even a lesbian should’ve noticed that,” she glances at Cas. “Tell ‘em Cas!” She shoves his arm.

Castiel’s still not sure how to feel about the topic. He’d think everyone would be uncomfortable talking about it, but to his surprise, everybody just laughs along.

“It ain’t fair, Jo,” Benny chuckles, “We all know b-guy’s opinion on that one,” he says, causing everybody to look at Cas, smiling widely.

“Well, at least Cas got what he wanted,” Charlie says and winks at Cas. “Am I right,  _b-guy_?”

Cas opens his mouth to ask them drop the topic, when Jo’s fiancé – Victor – suddenly speaks up. “Okay, why do you call him that? The  _b-guy_ thing.”

Everybody smiles at the memories, their eyes lighting up as if just the memory alone is enough to make them feel younger.

“Didn’t Jo tell you the infamous story?” Charlie wonders, and when Victor shakes his head, she smiles, “Well, long story short,  _b-guy_  is short for  _badass guy_.”

Victor is clearly a bit surprised by that. “Badass?” He glances at Cas as if trying to figure out why would anybody call him that.

“Yeah,” Jo says, “He didn’t like the  _ass_  part, and so we shortened it to b _-guy_. I don’t even remember how that happened,” she says, thoughtfully.

“Okay, but why  _badass_? Was he a rocker riding a Harley or something?” Victor asks again, clearly interested in the story.

Everybody shares glances, and Benny says, “Well, Cas ‘ere’s famous for being much stronger than he appears to look.”

“Yeah, when Dean first introduced him to us, he was a skinny boy who probably hadn’t eaten in like forever.” Jo says, hooking her arm around Victor’s.

“Hey, remember when Mrs. Harvelle made him a free dinner the first time she met him?” Charlie asks, suddenly excited, all the worries that covered her face gone in the blink of an eye.

They start chatting again, and Cas glances at the door, and then at the clock. It’s getting late and he knows that soon they’ll have to say their goodbyes and leave.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell the story!” Jo declares, and Cas knows that he’s still got an extra hour, even though he’s almost sure that it won’t change anything. He leans back, listening to the discussion.

“No way, you were a kid, how can you remember anything?” Charlie jokes.

“Charlie’s right. How old were ya? Eight?” Benny asks, his eyes glistening.

“Hey! I was sixteen, you morons,” Jo says, clearly not happy with that joke still floating around the group. “Okay, here’s the story,” she starts, turning her attention back to her fiancé. “Dean and Cas were dating back then. It was like the bravest and stupidest thing to do, ‘cause, you know, two guys dating in Kansas back then? You had to have some guts to do that openly,” she adds seriously and proudly.

“Jo, I don’t think the story is of any interest—” Cas tries, not ready to hear about his past from someone else’s perspective.

“Shh!” Jo hushes and turns to Victor again. “As I was saying, they were walking home late at night, when a group of homophobic assholes started harassing them.”

“Good ol’ 90’s,” Benny comments.

“Yeah, so Dean said that they should ignore them, ‘cause they were like ten or  _fifteen_  guys there, but Cas didn’t take any of that shit,” Cas sighs at the clear exaggeration in the story, but keeps quiet, “So the next time he hears them shout something, he loses his temper and—”

“And kicks their asses to the moon and back,” the familiar voice says, and Cas freezes. “And there were actually four of them. Keep your facts straight, Jo.”

Everyone looks up, silently, not believing their ears. Charlie glances at Cas, her eyes lighting with excitement and then turns back to Dean, who stands in the room, still leaning on the crutch. He looks like a lost dog, eyes drawn to his feet, head bowed, and Cas can’t believe that this is the very same man who broke his heart and left it bleeding and then tried to pull it together with a couple of nails and pins, just to throw it away.

“Andrea let me in,” Dean says, pointing to the door, feeling uneasy under everyone’s gazes. Cas recognizes his own uncertainty from several hours ago, but he had Charlie and Jo to cheer him up. And Dean had no one.

It’s silent for some time and Cas is ready to say something, he’s not sure what, but whatever it is, he’s certain he will defend Dean. But before he says anything, Benny stands up and walks to Dean.

“You’re late,” he says anger covering his face.

Cas has never seen Benny so angry. He’s heart sinks when he imagines Benny kicking Dean out. It wouldn’t be fair, not after Dean finally realized that loneliness and self-destruction won’t make the mistakes of the past and pain go away. Because he  _had to_  realize that, he’s here after all, isn’t he?

Cas makes a step forward, but Charlie holds him by the sleeve of his shirt. When he looks at her, she shakes her head and smiles.

“My flight got delayed,” Dean says, calm now, almost emotionless, clearly reading Benny like an open book.

They look at each other for some time, understanding each other without words, like they always used to. And Cas is afraid something bad is going to happen, but to his surprise, Benny and Dean suddenly smile at each other and hug and Cas gives a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding.

“’S nice to see you, brother,” Benny says, the anger he had before clearly fake now and Dean smiles, his emotionless features – just part of their silent game.

Charlie stands up and hugs him tightly, burying her red head in his chest, like a child. When she steps back, she tries to joke, commenting on how old Dean looks now, to which Dean responds with uncertain smile and short ‘ _Shuddup, I still got it_.’

Jo’s the next to hug him, but before that she hits him in the jaw, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek. “That’s for saying you didn’t need us anymore,” she says, slapping him again, this time with an open palm. “And this is for disappearing like we didn’t mean anything to you.” She says, and although it’s a bit harsh, Dean doesn’t even try to excuse his actions.

Jo hugs him, her eyes watering with tears. “We were so worried, you asshole,” she whispers, but in the silence of the room everybody can hear that.

Dean hugs her back with his free arm and Cas swallows, seeing him touch her so gently, like she’s the most precious thing in the world. He was always tender with her, and seeing that now makes Cas smile in spite of feeling dizzy and uncertain of what to say to him when it’s his turn.

Jo introduces Dean to Victor and they shake hands, though Dean’s protectiveness takes hold of his features, and Victor’s own stubbornness and possessiveness over his fiancée come clear once the polite smiles are gone from their faces.

Cas looks at Dean and nods, “I’m glad you could make it. Though you could have answered your phone once in a while.”

Dean averts his gaze and smiles, “Well, you know me, always up for a surprise.”

Cas feels something hit up in him. “Do I?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Someone clears their throat, and Cas starts, forgetting that they were not alone in the room.

“Alright, guys, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Charlie says, taking Cas by his arm and pulling him out of the room. “You didn’t invite him to sort out your relationships, Cas,” she whispers, her brows drawn together. “Christ, let us have some fun before you start breaking plates!”

Cas nods apologetically. He looks at Dean surrounded by his friends. They ask him something and he nods. He still looks uncomfortable answering the questions, but Benny says something and claps his shoulder, and Dean breathes out and straightens up, like something that was holding him back finally lets him free.

Andrea offers him the last piece of the birthday cake. He sits at the table, wincing slightly, and puts the crutch near him. Cas frowns, hating the thing.

“We’ll give you some time to talk. But before that, please, let us take care of this, alright?” Charlie asks, looking back at him. “Just…” she sighs, “Just try to pretend that everything’s cool between you two. At least until we’re out.”

Cas nods. This is not the place nor is it the time. He walks into the kitchen and sits in the corner, watching everybody talk.

Nobody asks Dean about his job or his leg, or where the hell he was all these years. Nobody dares bring up Sam or Jessica. The discussion is not as heated as before but it’s honest and filled with smiles and quiet laughter. And that’s enough for now.

Cas knows this is just a beginning.

 

When they leave Benny tells them that the next time he won’t be as forgiving. Andrea drags him inside before he can graphically describe all the things he’ll do to them if they ever try to disappear like that again.

Jo and Victor say they’re tired and hurry to the car, after hugging Dean and Cas. When Charlie hugs Cas she asks him quietly to work out everything with Dean, or she’ll never talk to him again and then sits in the car with Jo and Victor. And before they can do anything about it, Dean and Cas are left alone.

And yeah, that is… awkward.

Cas looks around the street. “Where’s your car?” he asks uncertainly.

Dean sighs, “Since I’m considered to be disabled, they won’t let me drive.”

“You’re not disabled,” Cas says, not even thinking it through. “You’ve got a broken leg, it will heal. With time.”

Dean chuckles, but it’s not as sincere as it was back in Benny’s house. “Cas, it’s been broken for almost a year now. It’s not gonna heal,” he sighs. “And I’m not driving cars anymore, so…”

Castiel doesn’t know why, but that just makes him mad. He knows how much Dean liked driving, how much work he put in the cars he drove, and how he treated them.

But he doesn’t say anything. “How did you get here then?” he asks instead.

“I walked. It’s not pleasant, but what are you gonna do, right? Plus, the motel’s not too far,” he says pointing the crutch to where Cas supposes the motel should be.

Cas looks at Dean: from behind he looks like an average lonely, old guy, and Cas hates that.

When did they grow old? It seems like only days ago they were standing outside the bar, out of breath, their hands red with blood and two almost crazy smiles covering their faces. Two fags beating up four straight guys. They made history that night, even though they had to leave the town the very next, so they wouldn’t be bothered again.

Look at them now: old, tired, and broken.

“I can accompany you to your hotel, if you’d like me to,” Cas offers.

Dean chuckles, but nods. “Yeah, why the hell not.” He turns around and Cas runs to him, not realizing how far to each other they were standing before.

They walk in silence, not sure of what to talk about, or maybe just feeling that it’s unnecessary to talk about anything, the silence between them more comfortable than ever.

But still, there’s so much they have to discuss, so many things to make clear.

“Heard ‘bout you ‘n that girl. Daphne, was it?” Dean asks casually.

Cas swallows, remembering the last time Dean brought her up, “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugs his shoulders. “Just… I don’t know. To apologize, I guess?” he says uncertainly, clearly embarrassed. “Anyway, I’m sorry if I was the reason you broke up with her. You know, I wouldn’t want that.”

Cas  _doesn’t_  know if Dean wants that or not, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes it so believable.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean,” he says, breathing out, like the words that are finally out, too much weight to be carrying all these years. “Daphne and I… we wanted different things. She wanted to have future with me: a family, house full of children.”

“And you didn’t?” Castiel feels Dean’s gaze on him, but doesn’t lift his head to look at him, he just shakes his head, no. “You don’t want kids?” he asks as if that’s hard to imagine.

“It’s not that,” Castiel says thoughtfully. “Not that I didn’t think about it.” He did, but then again he thought better of it. A person that can’t take care of his own life shouldn’t be allowed to be responsible for someone else’s life. He doesn’t want to mess up his own children, if he ever has them.

Dean snorts and then all of a sudden, laughs so hard, he has to stop walking. His full body laugh makes Cas stop and smile despite himself.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothin’,” Dean says, his voice light, “Just imagined you holdin' a baby. Wouldn’t that be a picture for a family album?”

Castiel doesn’t understand what’s so amusing about it. “How funny you would mention it, but I actually  _was_ holding a baby. Just a couple of hours ago.” This makes Dean laugh even harder, and Cas knows he should feel offended but for some reason, he just keeps talking. “And the baby threw up on me. Apparently, it was too excited to be held by me.”

Dean laughs even harder, and Cas doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t feel that old anymore. Of all things, he feels happy. Just like that, in the middle of the street, without any future ahead of him, with a still wet trench coat on and a person, who practically damaged him in every way imaginable, laughing at him.

“I wish I was there to see it,” Dean says finally, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“You could have been,” Cas says, and Dean stops laughing, looking at his own feet; the street suddenly feels too quiet. “Why weren’t you?”

Dean rubs the bridge of his nose and says, “I told you, my flight—”

“No, Dean. The  _real_  reason.” Cas thinks Dean will get angry now, turn around and walk away, say that  _that’s not his fucking business_. And they won’t meet again for seven more years or maybe even more.

Well, maybe that’s just how it should be.

“I…” Dean shakes his head, and looks up. “I left you ‘cause I thought you’d have something without me, Cas. A normal life… a family.” Dean swallows, breathing heavily, like it hurts to admit this now, after everything’s said and done. “I knew, what you were doing back then,” he says, and his gaze is suddenly too sharp and blaming and apologetic at the same time. “You were trying to pay me back, didn’t you?”

Cas swallows, “Dean—”

“No, wait,” Dean says, holding his arm up. “Let me…” he breathes out, nervous of whatever he wants to say. Or maybe doesn’t want to, but feels he needs to do that, so Cas closes his mouth and waits.

“I didn’t need your money, or that huge house, or you workin’ your ass off to pay me back for something I did ‘cause I wanted to.” Dean pauses, his voice shaking. He looks so young, even with stubble on his cheeks, even with wrinkles and so much pain in his eyes; he still looks like a child when his eyes are full of tears.

Cas nods. “You needed me beside you, and I wasn’t there.”

For a moment Dean looks like he’ll deny that, but then he drops his gaze, nodding.

“I was broken, man,” he says quietly. “I just wished you’d leave me, like all the others.” He shrugs his shoulder, his mouth twisting in a smile.

Cas swallows, closing his eyes.

 _Why are you here, Cas?_   _Why didn’t you leave me, like everyone else did? What is it that’s here for you? What do you want?_

“But for one stupid reason, you stayed. To pay me back.”

Cas opens his eyes, pushing the memories away. That’s not it, that’s not the reason he stayed, it never was. He shakes his head, stepping forward. If this what Dean’s been thinking all these years it’s no wonder he thinks so low of himself and pushes everyone away.

“And look where it got us. I pulled you down with me when you deserved so much— ”

“No!” He can’t help himself. “No, Dean. That’s… That’s total bullshit!” Cas feels out of breath, shouting in the dark empty street things he should have said long ago. “I was there because I  _wanted to_. I was there, because I thought—I thought I could fix us…”

_Because I couldn’t imagine my life without you._

Dean doesn’t believe him. Why would he? Why would the person who lived in isolation and self-hatred all these years believe him?

“Dean…” Cas breathes out his name like a prayer, and Dean starts, his eyes glistening in a low light of the street. “I just wanted you to be happy and I didn’t care about the price.”

Cas can’t stand the way Dean’s looking at him, as if he’s a sinner and a saint at the same time, so he looks away.

“That’s why you let me  _rape_  you?”

 _What?_  “Dean—”

“You thought  _that_  would make me  _happy_? Fucking raping you?!”

Cas has never seen so much hurt on somebody’s face, so much guild and burden of mistakes.

Dean shakes his head in what looks like disgust. Cas feels his heart sink, his arms tremble.

“What do you suggest I should have done?”

“Broken my fucking neck!” Dean shouts unhesitatingly, “Thrown me out of the window! Anything! But not lie there and fucking take it!”

Cas feels sick, he’s going to throw up, he’s sure. He remembers everything; every memory he tried so desperately to forget, every second of the bittersweet torture, pierced into his mind every night.

“Why, Cas? Because you felt  _obliged_?”

Cas shakes his head, because that isn’t true, but he remains silent. Dean breathes out, running his left hand through his hair, the way that Cas knows he always does when he’s on the verge of breaking down.

“I remember it, Cas,” he says quietly. “Even though I was drunk as hell, I remember every moment of that goddamn night and I can’t forgive myself.”

“That’s why you left?” Cas asks, his throat tight.

Dean nods, his bottom lip shaking. “That was the last straw.”

Why didn’t he stop Dean though? Was he really naïve enough to consider that night the beginning of something good? How stupidly, childishly and hopelessly faithful was he?

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he says, pouring his regrets into his words, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I’m sorry I cared more about money than I did for your mental stability. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy again. Forgive me.”

Dean looks at him wide-eyed, but before he can say anything, Cas starts talking again.

“And I forgive you as well. For caring about the dead more than about the living,” Dean frowns at that. “For being unfaithful to me, and locking yourself in your studio for days and never leaving it when _I_ needed _you_. I even forgive you for raping me.” Dean shakes his head, his left hand rubbing his forehead.

“But most of all, I forgive you for leaving me.” Castiel swallows his mouth feeling dry and his head and heart feeling light.

Dean sighs, his breath echoing in the empty street. “Cas, we… We destroy each other. We’re not good for each other.”

Castiel steps forward and smiles. “We’ll work on that.”

“We hurt people around us, and…” Dean breathes out as if he’s ready to give in. “Fuck…”

“Can we please start over now?”

Dean shakes his head, grabs him by the lapel of his trench coat and pulls Cas to him.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no such a thing as a 'happy ending'. But they'll work on their 'happily ever after'.

Cas looks around the room and smiles. It’s crowded and noisy, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He finds Mary in the corner, she’s still a bit pale because of Jessica’s loss, but at least she’s laughing now. Dean’s sitting beside her, another present in his hands. Mary says something and Dean leans closer and hugs her. They’re together again, their small family reunited.

“Wow,” Charlie says, coming from behind him. “Well done, Cas.”

“You too,” he says, nodding.

Charlie nods back and looks where Dean is now surrounded by some old ladies – Mary’s friends, Cas guesses. They chatter excitedly and Dean throws Cas a glance that says he needs to be saved.

Charlie chuckles. “So?” she asks, turning to Cas. “When are we going to see your present?”

“I bet it’s something cheesy,” Jo says, coming up to them with two pieces of cake on a plate. “Like rainbow colored flowers or a dance to the _Endless Love_ song,” Charlie lifts her eyebrows. “What? I’d watch _that_ ,” she says, biting on the cake.

“Where’s Victor? I haven’t seen him in a while,” Cas asks, glancing around the room.

“Oh, he’ll be late. Still workin’, you know,” Jo says.

“So the second piece of cake…” Charlie asks carefully.

Jo looks surprised for a moment. “Oh, it’s for me. I’m eating for two these days. Hey, is that chicken?” she asks and walks to the table. Cas and Jo exchange knowing glances.

Someone suddenly yelps attracting their attention. For a second Cas’ sure something bad has happened, he walks through the crowd to where Dean has been sitting. But then people start laughing and he guesses it’s nothing to worry about and sighs with relief.

“Hey,” Dean says, waving to him from the couch. Cas walks up to him and Dean stands up, using his crutch to lean onto. “Uhm…” 

They’re still trying to get used to each other. It’s not that easy, considering that last years on the rare occasions when they weren’t ignoring each other, they were shouting at each other. So it still feels kind of strange to be able to talk and joke and feel comfortable around each other. Cas guesses they’ll need some time to adjusting to this.

“Hey,” Cas smiles, coming closer to Dean.

And just because he can, he puts his arms around him and smiles, ignoring the nervousness and slightly shaking hands.

Dean chuckles. “You don’t have to do that, if you don’t want to.”

Cas considers that for some time and then nods, “Alright.” He steps back, giving Dean space he needs. “Want to unwrap my present?”

“’Corse,” Dean nods.

“But you’ll have to walk to it,” Cas warns, his hand coming down Dean’s arm and interlacing their fingers.

“Jesus, Cas, how many times do I have to tell you I’m fine?” Dean asks rolling his eyes.

“First, stop blaspheming. Second, I’m not blind. I can see that walking hurts you. Third, stop talking or you won’t get your present.”

Cas loves the way Dean looks at him when he talks that way. He knows Dean finds that _adorable_ for some reason (at least he told him he does), but this time Dean respectfully nods, trying to sustain the smile.

When Cas pulls him to the front door, Dean gripes his hand harder and walks after him. 

It’s still chilly outside, although the sun’s shining and even birds sing from time to time. Cas would call this a perfect winter day if only it would snow. He can hear people in the house talking and laughing and smiles to himself.

 “Alright! You win… walking hurts like hell. Slow down, Cas, would ya?”

Cas stops and glances at Dean. He’s a bit out of breath desperately trying to keep up with Cas, but his crutch gets stuck somewhere and he balances on one leg to pull it out.

Cas sighs and turns to him, his free hand coming up to cup Dean’s cheek. Dean looks wrecked and tired but even so he manages to look hotter than anyone Cas has ever seen. And the funny thing is, he probably doesn’t even know that; a ‘ _What the hell are you doing?’_ question lost on his open lips, when Cas smiles.

And just because he wants to, Cas leans in and kisses Dean, their lips touching slightly. He feels Dean’s hand come up his neck and push Cas closer, deepening the kiss. Dean’s tongue licks his bottom lip carefully, and Cas opens his mouth willingly.

When they break apart, they smile and Cas whispers, “Happy Birthday, Dean.”

He steps to the side and watches Dean’s eyes go wide and his mouth fall open. “Cas, it’s…” he says and looks at him. “You know, I can’t drive, not with my leg—”

“Dean,” Cas says, stepping forward and putting his hands on his shoulders. “You _will_ drive, because your leg _will_ heal,” he says calmly, Dean looks unconvinced and Cas sighs. “I’ll think of something, I promise. I just want you to believe me on this. Alright? And after you heal, we’re going to restore it together, and drive it into the sunset like the couple of queers we are.”

Dean lets out a short laugh and nods. He pulls Cas closer by his waist and hugs him, burring his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs, looking at the black broken Chevrolet Impala ’67 parked on the opposite side of the street.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

** THE END **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thank you so much for leaving comments and supporting me in my very first fanfiction in english! I'll try to become even better writer and publish more stories (i'm already working on my dcbb and have one pwp in progress). So, thank you!
> 
> Also, thanks to my beta, atomistiel, and my best friend, Dasha, who kept me writing. I love you guys!


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